


Break Me Free

by Secret_Notebook_of_a_Wallflower



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Related, Cheating, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First Love, Heartbreak, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Notebook_of_a_Wallflower/pseuds/Secret_Notebook_of_a_Wallflower
Summary: Omar is feeling trapped. Like a bird in a cage that is too small. Too small to spread his wings. With each and every day, the air around him feels thinner and thinner. He can't breathe. Will Ander be able to break him free or will the differences between them be too big to overcome? Will their love be strong enough for the challenges life is throwing their way or is one of them going to end up with broken wings?(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)“I can't stand this anymore, I am dying inside! Please, break me free!”“I will, but you will have to trust me, you will have to reach me your hand … can you do that?”
Relationships: Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana
Comments: 71
Kudos: 173
Collections: Élite ▶ Omar Shanaa / Ander Muñoz





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The past year with all its craziness gave me a lot of time for watching TV series. And once I've seen **Omar and Ander** on screen, I couldn't stop my mind from coming up with ideas about how their relationship could evolve. As they don't nearly have enough screen time - at least in my humble opinion - I started writing about them. Some of the show's milestones when it comes to their relationship will be playing a role in this story, but the way there will often be different. There will be a bunch of situations and problems that not addressed at all in the actual series and some important elements of the series will not be a part of this fanfiction (like any of the murder mysteries involved). That's why I decided to tag it as **canon related**. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy their journey. But let me warn you, I can't write fluffy stories, where the main characters are happy all the time. This story is going to be **painful** , it's going to be **full of heartache** and both Omar and Ander will be **facing a lot**. So brace yourself and get ready to suffer with them. It will be worth it, I promise! :) 
> 
> **Tags and warning** are likely to be updated along the way! 
> 
> **Posting frequency** : As I am working full-time, posting can sometimes take a bit, but I will try to be posting approximately once a week. 
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Elite characters and I do not make money with writing fanfiction.

“See you later!”

She quickly waved in his direction, a compassionate smile on her lips, while she swung her backpack over her shoulder.

He nodded slightly and followed her with his gaze, thinking about how it would feel like to go to a new, a better school himself. A school, where he could actually learn something apart from how to avoid those that were making fun of him and putting him down. Learning something that would allow him to fulfil his dreams, to make a better life for himself, to break free.

No, he wasn't jealous. If only one of them could benefit from a good education, it should be his little sister with her quick and clever mind. But he couldn't stop thinking about how his life would look like in another family, another suburb, another reality.

_Would he be allowed to have his own opinion?_

_Would he be allowed to be himself?_

_Would he be free to give into his desires?_

The door fell closed behind his sister and ripped him out of his thoughts. He was alone in the small store, alone with his deception that he felt as a throbbing pain in his chest. With a sigh, he rubbed his thick eyebrows and lifted the heavy box of oranges on the fruit stand.

He started sorting the fruits into their respective spot, while letting his fingers trail over the rough surface of the oranges. He liked how the tiny bumps felt on the soft skin of his fingertips and when closing his eyes, he tried to imagine how it would feel like to touch the skin of another human being, another man.

_Would that man's skin feel soft or slightly hairy like when he was touching his own chest?_

_Would he moan softly when letting fingers run over peaked nipples?_

_Would he have a treasure trail leading towards a hard and waiting cock?_

Omar exhaled loudly. Shaking his head, he tried to get rid of these thoughts. While making his skin prickle and his breath quicken, they also made him feel ashamed and guilty. He could only imagine what his parents and especially his father would do to him when finding out about his darkest secret.

Trying to distract himself, he worked as fast as possible. He arranged the fruit and vegetables, brought the empty boxes to the garbage can in the backyard, stocked up missing cans in the shelves and opened coin rolls to fill the empty slots in the cash register.

His father would be satisfied with his work as always. And when he was lucky, he would let him enjoy a few hours of freedom in the evening, oblivious that these were the hours that let Omar carry on. The hours in which he sold drugs to make a bit of money for himself, a bit of money that he was hoping would allow him to live his own life at some point.

He just had to will his heart and his mind to be patient. While life was flowing on the streets outside, with time taking away a tiny little bit of his youth each and every day, keeping himself going was sometimes more of a challenge than anyone could imagine. But thus far, he was refusing to give up.

He wasn't willing to give up hope and he wasn't willing to give up himself.

Not yet.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Feeling tired, Ander let his fingers move through his curls, while getting out of his mother's car. He had been dreading this day. Going to the school in which your mother is the principal was never easy, but when this school is furthermore a school for the most wealthy students of the surroundings, it was even more difficult.

The start after the summer holidays was always the worst. Over the years, he had managed to make a few friends mainly with the help of Guzmán and Polo, which he knew since his childhood. He even liked spending time with them during the school year, but when they didn't see each other every day, he couldn't help but feeling a certain distance building between them.

_He didn't really think like them._

_He didn't really feel like them._

_His life was different and he simply wasn't a part of their group._

Despite knowing this for himself, he was trying his hardest to fit in. He couldn't stand being an outsider. He didn't want to be different. Yes, he was rather shy and a bit of an introvert. He liked keeping his thoughts to himself. He didn't have to stand out with all he did. He didn't need drama and gossip in his life. He rather liked to read a good book from time to time, to draw or to just look into the sky letting his mind take him elsewhere.

_Somewhere the pressure he felt was easier to stomach._

_Somewhere his father didn't see him from the perspective of a coach, but as his son._

_Somewhere it was a bit easier to be himself._

Somehow it wasn't easy for him to find true friends, people he felt he could trust with all his thoughts and feelings, who would always stand by his side without a doubt. While people usually liked him, they felt that he was a bit difficult to approach, that one could never truly know what he was thinking. And that's why deep connections never seemed to develop and he just couldn't make himself care about the superficial friendships that were characteristic for this school.

Bracing himself, he started walking towards the schools' main entrance. He had just stuffed his cellphone into his pants, when someone slapped him on the shoulder.

“Ander, how are you? Haven't seen you in a while! Why haven't you answered my messages, huh? We missed you this summer. Really, we had an amazing time, why didn't you join us? Carla has the most amazing pool and we spend all our time drinking cocktails and partying. The girls have been wearing crazy bikinis! I swear you really missed out, buddy!”

Guzmán lifted his sunglasses and smiled at him.

Ander made himself smile back.

“Gah … guys, I really missed you too. But you know how summer is for me, right?”

“Nothing but tennis?”,Guzmán asked.

“Exactly, but hey … now you've got me back!”

Ander hated himself for this answer. He hated tennis and he hated using it as an excuse for having been avoiding his friends during the summer. But it was the easy way out and he was happy to take it.

To Ander's relief, Guzmán didn't ask anything else and together they strolled towards their classroom not knowing that their first school day after summer break would be full of unexpected surprises and that Ander would make an encounter that would change him forever.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Omar heard the car door falling closed before his mother's voice reached his ears.

“Omar, come out and help your father unload the deliveries!”, she yelled, rushing into the store.

He had been lying in his room, staring at the ceiling and trying to stop thinking about his worries and his fears. Feeling his chest moving with his breath, making his hands move up and down with each intake of air helped him feel grounded.

But the moment his parents were back from their visit, nervousness took hold of him. He knew where his parents had been and he knew that it could only mean one thing. The thing he was afraid of the most. They were actively looking for a girl he should marry in the future. And he could only hope that they wouldn't find one until he had enough money to leave.

Because that was something he just couldn't do. Yes, he was hiding. Yes, he was pretending to be someone he was not, but he would not be taking it as far as marrying a girl against his will. He knew how much pain, heartache and grief it would cause. To himself, but also to all other people involved. And that just wasn't him.

_The air around me is growing thinner and thinner._

_I have to break free._

He forced himself to stand up and hurried outside. His father was unloading boxes from their car and Omar realized with a frown that his father was breathing heavily and holding his chest.

“Go inside, father! I will take care of this.”

Looking up, his father smiled at him and nodded.

“Thank you, son! What would I do without your help. I am proud of you!”

Omar nodded with an uneasy feeling in his belly and started unloading the boxes. It grew more and more difficult to lie to his parents. His relationship with his father had never been easy. Disappointed with his son's academic achievements, Yusef Shanaa wasn't about to hide that he expected his son to do better, to be better.

But since Omar started taking care of the store whenever he could, Yusef felt appeased and tried to be a little bit less hard with his son. Contrary to what he might have thought, his kindness made it even more difficult to Omar. His guilt sometimes threatened to absorb him.

_Was it really okay to put his own wishes above those of his family?_

_Shouldn't he be more grateful for what they had done for him?_

_Less selfish?_

_Was he a bad son?_

The vibration of his cellphone made him pause and reading Samuel's message made him smile despite the dark thoughts that had been clouding his mind.

**[Samu: This new school is fucking nuts. Full of snobs, I can't wait to hang out with you tonight!]**

Omar laughed; he could only imagine how his closest friend must feel in such a school. Completely out of space, that much was sure, but Omar was very curious about it.

**[Omar: My father is in a good mood; I hope he will let me get out a bit tonight! You'll have to tell me all about it!]**

**[Samu: I swear, if that guy in the front row says one more stupid thing about us … I might just break his fucking nose! And it's a big nose!]**

**[Omar: Haha, keep it easy and don't get stuck in detention on your first day! Meet me in front of the store at 8!]**

He pocketed his phone and went back to work with a slightly lighter feeling in his chest. Samuel knew more about him than anybody else and maybe he should trust him with one more of his secrets.

_Maybe I should … !_

_Maybe tonight!_

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Ander was leaning against a wall in front of the school, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He nervously glanced to the school's entrance from time to time, struggling with whether he should really go through with his plan.

The day had been exhausting. The arrival of the three new students had certainly caused some trouble and while most of his friends started picking on them straight away, Ander couldn't help himself. He somehow kept wondering whether these people weren't a bit more like himself than his actual friends.

Samuel seemed like a person he could really get along with, a bit more quite and profound just like himself. Christian was a bit over the top, but Ander couldn't stop himself from admiring that Christian was willing to stand his man in front of those that wanted to put him down. They had done nothing but saying ugly things to him, but it hadn't stopped Christian for one second. Nadia was a force of nature. With her imperative calm and her clever mind, she seemed to be able to look at the bottom of the soul of each one around her.

Ander liked observing people, wondering about their thoughts and how their lives looked like. And these three had certainly sparked his interest.

_I want to get to know them!_

When he had heard Christian talking to one of his classmates in the hallway. He didn't even know what exactly was up with him, but the moment he had caught Christian talking about a friend of him who has dealing with drugs, an idea started forming in his mind. He leaned back, letting the sun shine into his face.

_Am I going crazy?_

_Do I really want to buy drugs?_

_Or is it just an excuse to approach Christian and his friends?_

Ander bit his bottom lip and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn't know what was wrong with him in the last weeks, but the atmosphere at home, the tension between himself and his father and the way his father sometimes screamed at his mother constantly held him on edge. He had been smoking weed at parties a few times before, never buying it himself, but toking on a joint when it was passed around by others.

_Why not buy a bit for myself?_

_There is nothing wrong with that, right?_

_I don't even have to use it?_

_It would give me a perfect excuse to talk to Christian!_

Maybe he should have accepted Guzmán's offer to have his driver drop him off in front of his house, but he had wanted to wait for the new students and that was something he couldn't tell Guzmán. And now he was standing here, not knowing what to do.

When he heard chatter coming from the entrance of the school, he looked up and saw Nadia, Samuel and Christian walking down the stairs.

_Time to take a decision!_

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

While his father was resting and his mother was taking care of the laundry, Omar was sitting behind the cash register. He was bored. The day has been quiet and with all tasks done, he had nothing to do but waiting for a potential costumer. In was too early in the afternoon for most people to do their grocery shopping and Omar had spend the last hours drawing in his sketchbook. He only dared taking it out, when he knew that his parents wouldn't surprise him by coming in unannounced. Now he was leaning back behind the counter, letting the sun hit his face. It was a beautiful late summer day and he could hear people laugh in the streets, passing the windows of the store with an ice cream in their hands.

Rubbing his hand over his short hair, Omar reached for his cell phone. When he saw a new notification from the gay dating app that he had recently found the courage to install, he quickly glanced in the direction of the door to their living quarters, before opening the message.

**[Atrevido95 liked your profile. Curious? Go check him out!]**

Omar clicked on the user's profile picture, showing a boy around his age with a pretty face. The picture was black and white, but it looked like the boy had rather light hair. When zooming closer it seemed like he had a number of freckles on his cheeks.

_Cute, but not really my type!_

There were a few other pictures, but none of them was really raising his interest. Luckily, they were also not explicit. Some of the profiles Omar had come upon in the app had made him cringe. Both regarding the pictures and the descriptions in the profiles. He didn't understand how people could give so much information on themselves, their preferences and experiences on the internet.

He was about to close the app, when he got a notification that he had a message in his inbox.

**[Atrevido95: Hi! Nice profile picture! Your muscles are looking … appetizing! I can only imagine how your body looks like under this tank top! Mind sharing a picture of your face? Would like to see more of you! ;) And regarding your preferences, I would be all in for giving a hand job, too many guys out there wanting it all straight away, were goes the sexual tension with that, huh? Write me! My name is Javier by the way!]**

Omar bit his bottom lip.

_Should I reply?_

He surely wasn't sending around a picture of his face. But maybe he could arrange a quick hook-up one of these days. He had made it clear in his profile that he wasn't in for the whole deal and that resulted in the fact that he rarely got genuine messages. This one didn't sound too bad and the guy wasn't looking that bad.

He was about to click on the reply button, when his cell phone signalled the reception of a short message.

**[Christian: Omar, dude! Are you selling something at the bridge tonight?]**

Omar frowned. He didn't like getting such messages and only few of his clients were getting in touch with him this way. He was too afraid to make it a habit and despite knowing that the fact that his clients could only get in touch with him by finding him at his usual selling spots was bad for business, he wasn't about to change that. But Christian was friends with Nano and Samuel and they said that he was to be trusted.

**[Omar: No, I am at the store until later today! Then I will be meeting Samuel! Tomorrow! Why?]**

He had initially planned on going to the bridge tonight, but he somehow felt the need to be with a friend. And he was still thinking about telling Samuel about him being gay.

_As if I'd really have the courage to do so._

He shook his head, while reading Christian's next message.

**[Christian: Okay! One of my new classmates wants to buy something! I will tell him where to find you tomorrow!]**

Omar sighed and rubbed his eyebrows. New clients were good, of course … but it always made him feel a bit nervous if these people were somehow connected to his real life and attending a class not only with some of his friends, but also with his sister Nadia who had no idea about his activities was certainly a bit too close for his liking.

**[Omar: Sure, but dude … be careful please! Nadia can't find out about this, do you hear me?]**

It didn't take long for Christian to reply, but knowing how careless he sometimes was, his message didn't help much in calming Omar's nerves.

**[Christian: Don't worry! You know me, man! See you around!]**

“Omar, you know that I don't like you playing on your cellphone when working! What are the clients supposed to think?”

Omar flinched. He hadn't heard his father entering the store and he hated being surprised. Especially when doing something he was sure his parents wouldn't appreciate. Like playing on his cellphone when working.

_If they'd knew what I have been writing about just a few seconds ago! And that damn app … maybe I should delete it!_

He avoided to point out that there was no single client in sight, while stuffing his cellphone in his back pocket.

“I am sorry, father! I put it away!”, he hurried to say.

His father nodded, while casting him a stern look.

“Let's prepare the orders for next week!”

With that he walked back into the storage room and Omar followed him without a word, an empty expression on his face.

***

Ander was trying to finish his English homework, when he heard his father enter the house. The atmosphere had been tense the last days. Since his mother had voiced how unhappy she was in their marriage, things hadn't improved. They had actually gotten worse. While his father had never been physically violent towards any of them, the way his father had been talking to them and especially to his mother was cruel.

_Why isn't she kicking him out?_

He tried focusing on his work, but was unable to really put his mind into it. He leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of the last months in the pit of his stomach. His father was constantly trying to get him to speak up against his mother, but Ander didn't see her in the wrong. He would like to confront his father for all the times he had made them feel worthless, but his mother had asked – no begged – him to stay out of it.

He sighed and got up from his desk. When heading downstairs, he could hear his father opening the door to the fridge.

“Why didn't you go grocery shopping today? I told you to stock up on my favourite beer!”, his father snarled, closing the door of the fridge with a bang.

_Fantastic, here we go!_

“I am sorry! You know how first school days are! A bunch of parents were there to see me after school, questions about this and that! I got out later than expected and as we still have food for tonight, I was planning on …!”

“I don't give a shit about what you were planning on? Can't you do one single thing that I ask you to do? Was it that difficult to stop at the supermarket on your way back?”

When turning around, his father saw him standing in the stairs.

“Come down, Ander! I heard that the first day was very busy and that's why we have to sit in front of an empty fridge tonight! Isn't your mother the perfect housewife?”, he asked.

“She isn't a housewife, father! She is a school principle and …!”

“And she thinks that this job is more important than taking care of her family! I should never have allowed her to take this job. Don't you see where this is getting us? Your mother thinking that her job is worth more than mine?”

_And here we go again! Touching the core of the problem!_

Before Ander could reply and say anything that would let the situation escalate, his mother jumped in.

“Why don't we sit down and have dinner together? I will be driving to the supermarket first thing tomorrow morning, huh? Before school begins! The supermarket on the other side of town opens at 6 o'clock. I should have thought about that this morning, I know! I am sorry, okay? Let's all calm down!”, his mother said, her arm making a calming gesture into the direction of her husband.

Ander wanted to scream, to tell his father to go to hell and to leave them alone, but the begging gaze of his mother kept him silent.

“I am sorry, mother! I still have to go out, we got a project to work on in Biology!”, he said, avoiding to look into his father's direction.

He knew that his mother knew that he was lying, but he had to escape this situation. He couldn't sit with them on the table, having dinner, pretending that they were alright. He just couldn't.

“Ok, of course! Go and meet your group to discuss your project!”, she said.

Ander turned around and quickly hurried outside of the house. Angry, hurt and ashamed. Ashamed of himself for leaving his mother alone in this situation. For running away. For being a coward. For being all the things his father said about him.

_I'm worthless!_

And suddenly all he could think about was getting his hands on some drugs. He needed to forget this misery, to numb the pain in his chest. Swinging himself on his bike, he closed his eyes, trying to remember the conversation he had with Christian.

When he had approached his new classmates, asking if he could have a word with Christian alone, he had seemed a bit surprised at first, but he had been friendly and had asked his friends Samuel and Nadia to wait for him, while distancing himself a bit with Ander.

_****** _

_**“Hey Christian, sorry for jumping you like that!”, Ander said, rubbing his hand through his curls.** _

_**“Nah, no worries, what's up?”, Christian asked.** _

_**“Well, ehm … I've heard that you might be able to … you know … get me some drugs?”** _

_**Christian looked surprised, but was hiding it immediately.** _

_**“Yeah, yeah! Sure thing! Just wait a second!”** _

_**He turned around, waving his hand in the direction of his friends to get their attention.** _

_**“Nadia? Is your brother in the store tonight? Do you know that?”, he screamed.** _

_**Nadia shrugged. “I am not sure, but I think he should be, yes!”** _

_**Samuel turned around, approaching them slightly. “I will be meeting Omar later tonight! He asked me to come to the store at 8, why?”** _

_**“Nah, just asking!”, Christian said, turning back towards Ander.** _

_**“So, what does that mean?”, Ander asked. “Can you arrange something or not?”** _

_**“Wait, I will just send him a message, ok! We'll figure something out, don't you worry!”** _

_**Christian grabbed his cellphone and started typing. A few minutes later, he nodded his head and made Ander approach him a little bit closer.** _

_**“Ok, listen! He can't meet you tonight, he is working in his father's store right now and he will be meeting Samuel afterwards, but he will be at the old bridge tomorrow. Not before 7, but after that he is usually there for a few hours, okay?”, Christian smiled, apparently proud of helping out his new classmate.** _

_**“Ok, cool! Thank you, men!”, Ander said. “See you around!”** _

_****** _

Speeding on his bike through the streets, Ander tried to get a grip on his thoughts. So, what information did he get from this conversation? He bit his bottom lip, trying to think straight despite the anger running through his veins.

_The guy is called Omar. He is working in the store of his father. Christian first asked Nadia whether she knows if he will be working I the store tonight or not. When Nadia had introduced herself, she had said that her parents and her brother worked in store – a family business basically. Samuel had mentioned the suburb he lived in and with him being close to Nadia and apparently to Omar, the chances were high that Nadia came from the same area._

Ander stopped his bike and leaned against a wall, while grabbing his cellphone. He should have all the information needed to find this guy straight away and it only took a small search on the internet to proof him right.

_Frutería Shanaa._

He quickly glanced at his watch.

_6h30._

Omar was only supposed to meet Samuel at 8. Chances were high that he was still at the store. Ander pocketed his cellphone and jumped back on his bike. He wouldn't wait until tomorrow to numb the throbbing pain in his chest. He would take care of this right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it until here - I will take that as a good sign! :) 
> 
> I would be very happy if you could leave me a comment or a kudo to let me know whether you are interested in a continuation of this story! 
> 
> It would mean a lot! 
> 
> Thank you so much and see you for the next chapter - hopefully! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) 
> 
> **Thank you so much** for all the comments and kudos for the first chapter of this story! 
> 
> Really happy to see that someone out there is liking Omander as much as I am, wanting to read more about them! 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this next chapter and their **first encounter**! 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

“Your mother and I will be gone for a while!”, his father said, while putting on his jacket and taking hold of a basket that his mother reached him. It was filled with homemade food, fresh fruits and vegetables from their store and their parents prayer mats.

When the news that Rachid Al Najjar had passed away had reached his parents, his mother had hurried to the kitchen straight away. The Muslim community in their suburb was strongly connected and the families supported each other. It therefore wasn't surprising that his parents would be heading over to the Al Najjar household tonight to help them in their darkest hour, with food and prayer. His father had known Rachid since the day he had arrived in Spain and the news had hit him hard. Omar could see it in his face.

“Yes, father!”, he replied, hurrying around the counter and opening the door for his parents.

His father nodded, a thankful look on his face.

“Take care of the shop until we are back, okay? Your sister surely has homework to do!”, he said.

“Yes, I will! Don't worry about the shop tonight!”, Omar replied.

He wasn't willing to start a discussion on the fact that he had planned on meeting Samuel. He was way too thankful that his father didn't force him to join them. He knew how lucky he was; many other boys his age had to attend all kind of religious events with their fathers. He could only hope that taking care of the shop would buy him some more time until his father would insist in introducing him to the community.

_I'll just be meeting Samuel right in front of the store. He will understand._

His arms crossed in front of his chest, Omar watched his parents walk down the street and disappear around the corner. He sighed. His father wouldn't be in a good mood these next days and getting a bit of time for himself and for heading to the bridge would be difficult.

_I will be an old man before I have enough money to run!_

He turned around, coming face to face with his sister. Nadia was smiling at him, a slightly worried look on her face.

“Hey!”, he said.

“Are you okay, Omar? You are looking worried and unhappy lately!”

He shrugged while walking back towards the counter, avoiding to show her his face.

“Yeah!”, he answered.

She tilted her head, watching him closely.

“Yeah? Yeah … what? Are you worried? Are you unhappy?”, she insisted.

“No!” Omar cleared his throat. “I mean ... I'm okay!”

When Nadia didn't reply and just kept watching him instead, he forced himself to pull a funny face and flipped her the bird.

“Stop bothering me, _mariquita_! I am sure that you have some homework to do!”

He knew that calling her by the nickname he had given her in their childhood would make her back down. They both grinned at each other, thinking back to the day Nadia had asked Omar to help transform her into a ladybug. She had been wearing a red scarf that she had found in her mother's closet around her shoulders, a bright smile on her face. With the biggest permanent marker he could find, he had drawn big black points all over her cheeks. Their parents had been washing Nadia's face for hours, but the black dots had taken days to fade.

“Okay, _hermano_! I'll be in my room! Call me if you need me, alright?”, she said, turning around.

He looked after her and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that Nadia loved him and he hated hiding things from her, but he wasn't sure how she would react to her brother selling drugs, saving money to run away from what they called his life. To her brother being gay, one of the things their father condemned in the strongest possible terms.

When his cellphone vibrated, indicated a low battery level, he quickly headed to his room, grabbing his backpack, before hurrying back into the store. Even knowing that his parents were gone for hours, he couldn't make himself feel less nervous about doing things his father wouldn't appreciate.

_Like leaving the store unsupervised for even just a second!_

He put his backpack on the counter, opened the zipper and looked for his charger. Once he had plugged it in, he quickly cast a look on the screen. Another notification from the gay dating app got him curious and he glanced in the direction of their living quarters before making sure that no one was about to enter the store.

_Just a quick look!_

**[Atrevido95: Com'on, don't be shy! ;) Maybe the pictures I attached will get you to reply!]**

Omar had to grin.

_This boy is persistent!_

He clicked on the first of the pictures. Leaning against a wall, his head turned sidewards and his right hand pulling his shirt up, Omar could see the boy's lean body. His tight underwear was clearly outlining his hard cock, pressing against the soft cotton.

_Nice pose!_

Omar was about to swipe to the next picture, when he heard the door open behind him. With a sharp intake of breath, he tried to close to app, but he missed the button and his cellphone nearly slipped out of his hands. With a spark of fear cursing through his body, he managed to get a hold on his cellphone and to throw it face-down onto the counter, the loading cable slipping off.

Trying to plaster an innocent look onto his face, Omar turned around and blinked. A complete stranger was standing in the door to the store. While he certainly didn't know all of their clients, he was sure that he had never seen this boy before and he definitely looked out of place. He was well-dressed; his clothes and his shoes certainly expensive. Not to talk about the watch around his wrist.

Omar's mind was working a mile a minute, an uneasy feeling cursing through his veins.

_He's not from here!_

_Who is he?_

_What does he want?_

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

With anger and frustration still heavy in his body, Ander stood in the door to the store, intensely watching the boy behind the counter. He felt Omar's gaze roaming over his body, certainly trying to make sense of why he was here.

He nodded shortly into Omar's direction, fully entering the store and closing the door behind him.

“Are you Omar?”, he asked with his gaze firmly locked onto the other boy.

While a suspicious frown was forming between the bushy eyebrows of his opposite, Ander approached the counter. He leaned against it, a curious expression on his face. He immediately noticed the beautiful features of the other boy's face and couldn't help but admire how well the dark red colour of his sweater went with his dark hair and skin tone.

Omar cleared his throat, casting a quick glance to the right. Ander could sense his nervousness.

“Yes, why?”, he replied.

Ander licked his lips, leaning into Omar's space.

“Listen, I would like to buy something!”

When Omar just stared at him, a confused look on his face, Ander sighed.

“Drugs, I mean! I would like to …!”

Ander didn't get to finish his sentence.

“Shhh, are you insane?”, Omar hissed, his face pale. “Get out of here!”

“Com'on, I know that you are selling! I was supposed to meet you at the bridge tomorrow, but … I need something now, do you understand?”, he explained, noticing that with every word he said, Omar grew more agitated. But slowly understanding was showing on his face.

“Did Christian tell you to come here?”, he asked, an edge of anger creeping into his voice.

Ander shook his head. “Not directly! So … what do you have and how much is it?”

Omar huffed, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Get out of here! I am not selling drugs in the store of my parents, you …!”

When Ander realized that Omar stopped himself from calling him names, he couldn't stop a smile from forming on his lips.

_He's interesting!_

“I don't have anything here!”, Omar added, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Ander shrugged. “Well, I can wait until you finish!”

The annoyed expression on Omar's face turned into worry, when he saw a man walking past the store, clearly recognizing him. The man lifted his hand in greeting and Omar nodded, a fake smile plastered on his face. When the man was out of sight, Omar turned his gaze to Ander.

“Listen, you have to get out of here! Or at least pretend to be buying something … something normal, while standing there, okay? This is suspicious!”, he hissed.

“Suspicious?”, Ander laughed.

He turned around, let his gaze roam around the shelves and grabbed a can of chickpeas that was within his reach. He put it on the counter and pulled his money out of his back pocket of his jeans.

“You must be kidding me!”, Omar groaned, when he saw the two hundred euro note that Ander had placed beside the can of chickpeas.

While Ander had entered this store, full of anger and shame for running out on his mother like that, seeing this boy and the way he behaved had gotten him completely intrigued.

_There is something about him!_

_Something unique!_

_Something intriguing!_

“So, how are we going to do this?”, Ander asked, looking straight into Omar's face.

He couldn't stop himself from noticing the worry in Omar's eyes and the nervous glances he kept casting around. While the situation might have gotten a little bit less tense those lost seconds, Ander knew that this boy wanted him gone – the sooner, the better. And while usually being persistent, he wasn't planning on extending the uncomfortable situation.

_He seems really upset, worried!_

_What's putting him on edge?_

With no answer coming from Omar, Ander took a decision.

“Okay, I will go! But I want you to come to the bridge tomorrow evening, okay?”

Omar cleared his throat, an expression of relief prominent on his face.

“I will see what I can do, okay? Things are … they are complicated!”, he said.

“Sorry, but that doesn't sound good enough to me!”

Once again, Omar said nothing and avoided Ander's gaze.

“Com'on! Tomorrow!”

Gulping, Omar shook his head. “I said that I will see what I can do!”

Throwing his hands into the air, Ander was about to take a step back, when his eyes landed on Omar's cellphone lying on the counter.

“Okay, okay … I get it, but I'll at least give you my number, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, knowing full well that he wouldn't get one, he reached for the cellphone. He turned it around, but before his fingers could fully close around the device, Omar launched forward as quickly as he could, his eyes wide and full of fear, grabbing it out of Ander's hands.

This sudden movement had made his backpack slide towards the edge of the counter, some of the items inside tumbling to the floor. An orange was rolling a few feet before disappearing below one of the shelves; headphones with a cable that was a complete mess hit the ground just in front of the counter. A folder had been pushed out of the backpack, the single sheets of paper that had been inside were sailing through the air, falling on the floor like autumn leaves.

Ander sighed, casting a quick glance onto the mess in front of him, before turning back to Omar, who stood frozen behind the counter with his cellphone still in his hands and an unreadable expression on his face.

_He's looking terrified!_

_Surely a bit of paper falling to the floor can't be that much of an issue!_

“I'm sorry about this, let me get these things for you!”, Ander said, trying to make up for the trouble he had caused.

“Don't! Don't touch anything!”, Omar screamed, his voice breaking, while hurrying around the counter.

He stopped in front of Ander, who was already kneeling on the floor, staring at the drawings that were spread across the wooden tiles of the store.

_Oh my God!_

While some drawing were showing landscapes, a beautifully drawn moon illuminating a forest clearing, trees covered in a thin layer of snow or a sunset over the mountains, its reflection prominent in a clear water lake, other drawings made Ander hold his breath.

_They are ... beautiful!_

_Erotic!_

Ander reached out, grabbing one of the drawings that was lying closest, his eyes taking in all the details. A male body, head thrown back in pleasure, lips slightly parted, the face partially hidden by a crumpled pillow, one hand fisting the soft material. A lean torso was exposed, some drops of precum visible in the light, a treasure trail leading to a hard cock whose outline was hinted at under a thin sheet covering this intimate place from view.

Omar fell to his knees, desperately trying to push Ander away from the drawings, hiding as many as he could from his view. His hands were shaking badly and his breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. Grabbing every sheet he could reach, Omar stuffed them back into the folder they had been hidden in.

But with his shaky hands, the thin paper was hard to grasp and the moment Ander heard a sob escaping Omar's mouth, he got into motion. Leaning towards the other boy, he grabbed his hands in a strong grip making him stop his movements. Omar tried to pull free, but Ander wasn't willing to let go.

“Hey! Calm down! Calm down, okay? There is nothing you need to worry about!”, he said, hearing Omar's laboured breath, his eyes downcast.

Omar was still struggling, trying to get his hands out of Ander's grasp, but his movements turned less frantic.

“Look at me!”, Ander said.

He tried to catch a look of Omar's face, but he refused to react.

“Com'on, I want you to look at me!”

And while Ander didn't expect a reaction, Omar actually looking up, took him by surprise. His cheeks were flushed, running red with shame, his lips slightly parted, short gasps of breath audible between them. But what really caught Ander's attention were Omar's dark eyes. They clearly were a mirror to his soul, all his emotions – anger, fear, shame and desperation – so obvious in them, that Ander felt his own heart ache for this boy.

_He's beautiful!_

_What is he so afraid of?_

He realized how close he was to Omar, the moment the other boy's breath ghosted over his skin. He felt the desperate need to reach out, to touch that beautiful face, to let his fingers trail over those bushy eyebrows, to lessen the frown that was clearly visible on Omar's forehead by a simple, comforting touch.

But suddenly Omar was breaking the silence.

“Let go of me!”, he said, his voice rough and confused.

Ander felt frozen in place, not knowing how long he had already been kneeling there, how long he had been staring into Omar's face.

“Go!”, Omar repeated and when Ander still didn't react, he added a soft “Please!”

And it was exactly this please, uttered with so much vulnerability, that made Ander back away a few steps. Omar let out the breath he had been holding and quickly collected all the drawings that were still lying on the floor. Stuffing them into the folder, hiding them from view.

He got up, his cheeks still flushed, pressing the folder with his hidden secrets against his chest. The sun was setting, slowly disappearing behind the roofs of the buildings lining the street, casting shadows on his face.

Ander watched him, mesmerized by the way Omar's eyes were reflecting the sun, thinking about what he could say to erase that desperate look from his face, but he was at a loss for words. He wanted to tell Omar that his pictures were beautiful, that he had no reason to hide them, to be ashamed of them, but he didn't trust his voice, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When Omar dropped his gaze, Ander caught sight of the drawing that was still lying close to his feet. It was the one he had been watching earlier, before Omar had dropped to his knees, pushing him away. He looked up, but Omar didn't move, seeming unwilling to approach Ander to collect that last drawing.

It felt like there was deep ditch between them, splitting the room into two, neither of them able to approach the other. Ander cleared his throat, bending town to pick up the drawing, while keeping his eyes on Omar, whose chest was still shaking with his quick breaths.

He licked his lips, thinking about putting the drawing on the counter, but he changed his mind, folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket, feeling Omar's stare on his skin with every movement he made.

“I'll see you tomorrow!”, Ander said, turning around and leaving the store, not waiting for an answer. While walking away, his heart beating quickly in his chest, Ander suppressed the urge to turn around and to cast one last look on the boy who was about to turn his world upside down.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

The moment the door of the store fell closed, Omar gasped, feeling the tension draining from his body, his legs shaky and unstable. He couldn't believe what had just happened, his heart still beating way too quickly in his chest.

_Why was I so stupid?_

_So careless?_

Still upset about what had happened, Omar fell to his knees, looking under each and every shelf to make sure that none of his drawings was still lying around. He then stuffed the folder back into his backpack and quickly turned around the sign of the store from _Abierto_ to _Cerrado._

He hurried into his room, made sure to close the door behind him and put the folder back into its hiding space below his mattress. He sighed, leaning against his bed, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. If his mother hadn't changed the beddings today, the folder would not have been in his backpack.

_He wouldn't have seen the pictures!_

_He wouldn't have been able to take one with him!_

_Why did he do that?_

His parents hadn't been there, luckily. But still, so many things could have gone wrong.

_Nadia coming into the store!_

_Or a client that was friends with his father!_

_His parents coming home early!_

Omar shook his head, pushing himself up again, trying to stop himself from thinking about what could have happened. On the way downstairs, he stopped in front of Nadia's room and carefully looked inside. She was sitting on her desk, her back to the door. She was wearing headphones and as far as Omar could see, she had a book lying in front of her that was taking her full attention.

Back at the store, he headed to the door, turned the sign back around and look outside for a second. It was slowly getting darker and most people were heading home, their gaze locked on the ground. When turning back to the counter, Omar caught sight of the can of chickpeas and of the two hundred euro note.

_Oh no!_

He shelved the can, making sure that the label was readable for the clients and quickly pocketed the money once he was back behind the counter.

_What am I going to do now?_

Omar rubbed his hands over his face, lettings his head rest on his elbows. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His heart had calmed down a little, but he still felt nervous, restless somehow. He couldn't understand how this stranger had suddenly tumbled into his life, getting a look at one of his best hidden secrets, just to disappear without …

_Without me knowing his name._

_Without me knowing how to get him his money back._

_Without me knowing if he will tell Christian about my secret!_

_Or Samuel? Or Nadia?_

_Or showing them the drawing he took with him ... without asking!_

Omar felt vulnerable, exposed. He had been so careful, trying to hide who he was, what he did. And this stranger had entered the store and ripped him of all his protection in just a few minutes. That boy had behaved like a bull in a china shop, completely ignoring what Omar had said, stepping over boundaries and stripping him bare. Omar gulped, feeling violated in his privacy. Afraid that this knowledge would give someone else power over him!

But what worried him the most was the weird feeling that had taken hold of him the minute that boy had grabbed his hands and forced him to look up into his face. He had been way too close and Omar couldn't stop himself from thinking back to the intense eyes of that stranger.

_He stared right into my soul!_

And instead of having been afraid, Omar had felt warm. There had been no judgement in this gaze, no hate, no anger. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he had seen in those eyes, but they had left him intrigued. Behind his closed eyes, he was able to see the other boy's face, his delicate features, the birthmark on his cheek, the messy curls that were surely soft to the touch.

_How would they feel like below my fingers?_

The vibration of his cellphone ripped him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. When he looked at his display, he sighed, quickly closing the gay dating up that was still open, showing the picture he had been looking at before the unexpected visitor had entered to store. While he had found the pose interesting before, he couldn't care less about it now.

_Have I been quick enough?_

_Or has that guy seen what I was looking at?_

_Would it have been better to let him see the app instead of the drawings?_

No one had ever seen anything he had drawn. His parents had not been especially interested in supporting their children in any kind of hobby, passion or talent and Omar has always been drawing in secret, making sure that no one found out about it.

_And now this!_

His cellphone vibrated a second time and Omar opened his instant messenger, showing two new messages.

**[Samu: Joder, Nano is taking ages in the bathroom! He's seeing a girl tonight!]**

**[Samu: On my way now! See you soon!]**

Omar had completely lost track of time. The whole situation still felt a bit surreal to him.

**[Omar: See you soon!]**

He hurried upstairs and knocked at his sister's door frame.

“Are you okay?”, she asked when turning around.

Omar rubbed his hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah, good!”

“Were you busy at the store?”

“Not a single costumer!”, Omar said, trying to keep a straight face.

_It's not even a lie!_

_He didn't buy anything!_

“Listen!”, he said. “Samuel will be passing by!”

“Do you want me to take over?”, she asked, but Omar shook his head.

“No, don't worry! We will be staying right in front of the store! Just wanted to let you know in case you are looking for me!”

“Okay! Have fun!”, she said, a smile on her face.

Omar smiled back, before running back downstairs. He took his jacket and went outside, leaning against the store window. He inhaled deeply, looking into the sky, while waiting for Samuel to arrive.

_They are going to school together!_

_Maybe I can find out his name!_

_His name would be a good start!_

_Considering how much he knows about me already!_

Omar shook his head, trying to stop a small smile from forming on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) 
> 
> I would love to hear what you think about this first encounter! 
> 
> And will Omar meet Ander at the bridge or will he not dare to face Ander after what happened in this chapter?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos on the last chapter! 🥰 
> 
> It's a rainy winter day where I am, basically the perfect time to post the next chapter! 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it! 🤗

Ander slowly turned his key, opening the door to their house without a noise. He had left this place with anger, shame and frustration cursing through his body, wanting nothing more than to numb those feelings. But meeting Omar had changed his whole mood. There was something about this boy that had gotten to him.

Holding his breath, he closed the door behind him and silently slipped out of his shoes, making sure to arrange them nicely beside the others. Even the smallest thing – like shoes standing out of line – could cause his father to lose his temper and to put his mother down.

After he had left the store, he had been restless, confused about the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach and instead of heading back home, he had been driving around with his bike, trying to clear his mind. He had been sitting at the lake close to school, staring onto the water, while it was getting dark outside.

He had ignored a message from his mother, asking where he was and had only started heading home hours later. A quick look onto his cellphone screen told him that it was nearly 11 pm. He closed his eyes and listened into the darkness of the hallway, hoping that his parents had gone to bed already or that his father was out of the house.

_Or that he has disappeared!_

At least that was what Ander was hoping for when remembering how his father had been treating his mother once again. It hadn't been a partially bad incidence, he could do worse – a lot worse actually – but with every time it happened, Ander grew angrier, wanting his father to leave them for good, to get out of their lives.

Not hearing a single noise, nor catching sight of a burning light anywhere in the house, Ander quickly passed the living room, his eyes falling on two glasses and an empty bottle of wine, forgotten on the small table in front of the couch.

_Why?_

_Why are you letting him get away with this?_

_Why are you forgiving him every single time?_

Ander closed his eyes, trying to keep his mind from getting back into a downward spiral. He had told his mother a million times, that he would understand – even support her – if she decided to leave his father, not wanting them to stay together for his sake, like many couples did. Not realized that they could not prevent their children from feeling how toxic their relationship actually was.

He could see his mother in front of his inner eye, shaking her head, a sad smile on her face, telling him not to worry about her. That she was happy most of the time, that she loved him and that he had so many good sides, that he deserved another chance.

However, with each other chance his father got, Ander withdraw a little bit more into himself, shielding his own emotions, his anger, his frustration and his fear – yes, sometimes he was afraid of his father – from the outside world. None of his friends knew about this mess. Not even Polo or Guzmán, who visited him frequently at home, joking with his father, not knowing how he was behind closed doors.

Ander didn't have the feeling that they would understand how much he suffered due to this. They would tell him to shrug it off, not to give a shit, to party hard and to be strong, to forget all about it. Problems didn't really exist in their world, they were conquered with parties, alcohol, drugs and sex.

Slowly moving upstairs, Ander shook his head. He knew that he had wanted to put his hands on drugs himself, just a few hours ago.

_That was such a stupid idea!_

He quickly entered his room, closed the door behind himself and leaned against the cold wood. Closing his eyes, he sighed. Thinking back to the situation in the store, he was happy about his own weakness. If he wouldn't have given into his desire to numb his feelings, he wouldn't have met Omar in the same way.

He might have gone to the bridge as had been his initial plan after talking with Christian. But maybe he would have changed his mind, knowing full well that drugs were no solution. And that it had been more of an excuse to get in touch with those new students, that were so different to his friends and maybe a little bit more like himself.

_Real!_

_With worries, fears and problems!_

He shrugged out of his clothes, letting them fall onto the floor. He reached for his pants, pulled his cellphone out and felt his fingers touch the thin paper of Omar's drawing. Switching on the light on his bedside table, he carefully unfolded it, letting his fingers trail over the edges.

He certainly wasn't an expert in judging nudes, but he had been mesmerized by the details in Omar's drawing. The pencil lines were soft, with shadows creating an incredible depth and Ander felt pulled right into the intimate scene.

Pressing his lips together, Ander let his gaze wander around the room, looking for a secure space to hide the picture. His mother was very open-minded and she had made it clear early on, that Ander could fall in love and bring home whomever he wanted. Gender certainly didn't matter. He wasn't so sure about his father's feelings on the matter, but he actually didn't care.

_Because HE doesn't matter!_

While he hadn't explicitly told his mother that he was interested in men, he was pretty sure that she was suspecting it. That didn't mean that he wanted his mother to get a hold on Omar's drawing. While he knew that he had violated the boy's privacy by ignoring his scream to stay away from the mess on the floor, he felt the strange desire to protect his secret from everybody else.

At the lake, he had been thinking about Omar's strong reaction and together with what he knew about Nadia, he was pretty sure that being gay just wasn't an option in their world. Their family seemed to be strictly religious and he could only imagine how difficult the situation must be for Omar.

_How would I feel?_

_Constantly worried about being found out?_

_Afraid of my family's reaction?_

_Of their rejection?_

After hiding the drawing in an old box with childhood memories, whose cover of dust on the lid clearly showed that it was rarely touched, Ander switched off the light and fell into his bed. Closing his eyes, he couldn't keep himself from thinking about Omar. Kneeling so close to the other boy, feeling his breath ghost over his skin and seeing those flushed cheeks … it had certainly gotten to him.

He licked his bottom lip. Shifting his weight a bit, he tried to get comfortable. One leg bent at his knee, the other lazily stretched out in front of him, Ander let his fingers trail over his chest. Rubbing the soft and sensitive skin around his nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He couldn't keep himself from wondering how it would feel like if Omar would be this close to him, leaning over his body, getting him all worked up.

_Fuck!_

Ander liked getting himself off, but today, he avoided touching his cock for longer than usual. He could still see Omar kneeling on the floor, his lips slightly parted. The tip of his tongue darting out, wetting them a little, while he was trying to shield his drawings from sight. Ander moaned softly. Giving into his desire, he let his hand move into his damp boxer short. Collecting the precum from the tip of his cock, he let his hand close around his hard length, moving it up and down lazily, drawing out the moment of release.

_Would he be willing to suck me off?_

_How would his lips feel around my cock?_

Ander loved giving head, but he knew that not everybody did. Thinking about what Guzmán and Polo told him about the sex they had with their girlfriends, he didn't consider himself especially experienced. Avoiding to hook up with someone from school, not wanting to officially out himself, his options were limited.

_How experienced is Omar?_

With his family being strictly religious and his reaction in the store, he was likely to be very careful.

_You can't even be sure that he is actually gay!_

Shaking his head, Ander tried to ignore this option, the desire cursing through his veins too strong to actually take it into consideration that he was jumping to conclusions.

Having been to a tennis camp for teenage boys most summers of his life, Ander had been fooling around a bit, exploring his sexuality little by little. One evening, after a bad fight with his father who was a coach at the camp, he had gone to the nearby city with some of the older boys.

After drinking a few too many, he had joined one of them in his room. Too proud to back down and to admit that he was a virgin, Ander's first time hadn't been spectacular. He didn't regret it, but he knew that it could have been different. He had been having sex a few times after that, clearly preferring to top.

He liked being in charge in bed and while stroking his cock in a quick and steady rhythm, he saw Omar kneeling in front of him. His tongue timidly gliding along the underside of his length, teasing the sensitive spot below his tip, that made him go crazy with desire. Ander imagined his hand lying on Omar's shoulder, gliding to his neck, stroking the soft skin there and letting his fingertips trail over the short, dark hair of the other boy. Encouraging him with soft moans to go on.

Feeling a tingle at the base of his spine, Ander knew that he would be coming soon. Pushing the covers away, he picked up speed, pressing his head into his pillow to muffle the sounds he could no longer control. In front of his inner eye, he saw Omar looking up at him. His eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen, stretched around the base of his cock.

With a final stroke, Ander came and felt a burst of warm cum hitting his chest. His head thrown back in pleasure, his lips slightly parted and his hand grabbing the soft material of his pillow, he was unconsciously mimicking the boy in Omar's drawing.

Letting out a shaky breath, Ander slowly came down from his high. He hadn't come that hard by his own hand in a long time. And while he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight, he knew that Omar had gotten to him. He hadn't felt like that thinking about another boy before. And while he didn't know where this would take him, he knew one thing for sure.

_I need to see him again!_

_I need to get to know him!_

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

_Ander._

_His name is Ander._

Lying in his bed, Omar was staring at the ceiling of his room. Pronouncing Ander's name silently to himself, he enjoyed the feeling of the letters tumbling from his tongue and he felt that it was suiting him well.

_Soft!_

_Unusual!_

_A little mysterious!_

Rubbing his eyes, Omar cast a quick look on his cellphone screen. It was still quite early and his father was opening the store today. He could lie in bed a little bit longer and while letting his eyes drift close, he thought back to the conversation he and Samuel had shared last night.

Samuel had been telling him a lot about _Las Encinas_ , the new school that he was now attending. And of course Omar had been curious. His friend and his sister were now going to spend a lot of their time there, maybe even make new friends and …

_...have less time for me!_

He had to admit that he was a bit afraid of losing Samuel. Since dropping out of school and taking care of the store, he had lost touch to all of his former classmates. They hadn't been close friends, but it still hurt. They weren't interested in spending time with someone that was constantly declining invitations or didn't show up at the last minute because some boxes of oranges had arrived late and needed to be unpacked. And the worst was that Omar could understand them, while feeling isolated and lonely at times.

But while Samuel had clearly been excited about the opportunity to attend a much better school than before, the people there didn't seem to be much to his liking. And somehow Omar felt relieved about that, knowing that those people were so different to himself and Samuel, that they might never be truly able to replace him as a friend.

_**Omar, you can't imagine how this school is like. It's insane! Those spoiled, rich kids defining themselves only over how much money their parents have. They have no clue what life is like outside of their bubble! And the way they have been looking down at us, the things they said to us! It was making me so angry! Not even the teachers are telling them to shut up! They are dickheads, I swear! You would hate them! All of them!** _

_Would I?_

Omar had been careful during their conversation, understanding that the whole situation was taking its toll on Samuel. All these students defining themselves over their parents must be especially difficult for him. Omar could still remember the day Samuel had called him late at night, begging him to come to his house. The tears evident in his friend's voice, Omar hadn't hesitated, stealing himself out of the store, running through the dark streets. Knowing that something terrible must have happened.

Samuel and Nano had grown up without their father, knowing nothing about him, apart from the swear words their mother used when talking about the man that had left her hanging with two kids. She was constantly working, sometimes taking on several jobs simultaneously, to make enough money to feed and shelter her sons. And while she was barely having time for them and usually in a bad mood, exhausted and frustrated, when she was home, she was all they had and Samuel loved her desperately.

He hadn't been the same since she had been killed during a robbery at the gas station she was working at. More than two years had passed, but the wounds were still fresh, barely starting to scar over. Omar could only imagine how Samuel had been feeling, hearing his classmates brag about their parents' wealth.

But while listening to what Samuel was saying and trying to make him feel better, Omar had tried to gather as much information on Ander as he could, wanting to make this stranger, who had stumbled into his life, tangible and less of a mystery.

_**I swear, the only things that they are talking about are drugs, sex and parties. The guys are the worst, bragging about their girlfriends and what they are up to between the sheets. There wasn't a single thing we have in common, I had no clue what to talk about and they felt it straight away. Putting us down, making us feel like aliens, that just don't belong.** _

And when Samuel had started talking about drugs and girlfriends, he had sensed his chance. Leaned back against the store window, taking a drag from his cigarette every now and then, making sure that is was hidden from sight in case his parents would show up, Omar had gathered his courage.

_**So, listen Samuel! There is this guy that must have talked to Christian today. About … about buying drugs! From me! Who is he? I mean ... what's his name and do you think that he is to be trusted? Or is he … an asshole like the others?** _

Samuel had known who Omar was talking about instantly, telling him after a short moment of reflection that his name was Ander. He told Omar how he had approached Christian after school, talking to him shortly, while Samuel and Nadia had been waiting a few feet away, reassuring him that Nadia was clueless about what Ander had wanted.

_**If he is to be trusted? Well, I have no idea Omar! I have seen him for the first time today!** _

_**I know … I know, but … how was he? Did he say stupid things to you like the others guys? Like that dude whose nose you wanted to break?** _

Samuel had shrugged his shoulders, his hands in his pockets, thinking for a while.

_**No, actually not! I can't remember him saying much at all, to be honest! He seemed rather a bit distant from the others! Shy … maybe! I don't know!** _

Omar had closed his eyes, letting the air he had been holding slowly escape from his mouth. When Ander had been talking to him in the store, he had felt honest, laid-back, certainly not aiming at making Omar feel bad about anything. Neither about the fact that he was working in his parents' store, nor about his drawings. Omar would have hated to hear that he had behaved like those other students Samuel had told him about.

He had been so curious about Ander, that he couldn't stop himself from trying to get more information out of Samuel. Forgetting how odd his behaviour must seem to his friend, who had no idea about what had happened just a few hours before.

_**What else do you know about him? Are his parents also rich? Does he have a … a girlfriend?** _

At that, Samuel had turned around, his eyebrows raised, watching Omar closely. And trying to hide the heat he felt in his cheeks, Omar had been looking into the sky, wishing he would have kept his stupid mouth shut.

_**I heard that his mother is the school's principle, but honestly … I can't figure out in how far him having or not having a girlfriend is important for you to decide whether to sell him drugs or not!** _

Omar had pressed his lips together, wondering if he should tell Samuel more about what had happened, about himself, about the fact that he was gay and that he had been hiding this from his best friend since way too long. Deep down, he knew that Samuel would not judge him, that he would try to support him, but he also knew that he would be disappointed, not understanding why Omar has been keeping this from him.

The silence had been heavy between them for a few seconds, but then Samuel had spoken again.

_**But if it really matters to you … I haven't seen him with any of the girls in class, he left alone and he didn't seem to be especially close to any of them. So, will you meet him at the bridge tomorrow or not?** _

Omar had liked his lips and taken a deep breath.

_**I've already met him.** _

Samuel had stared at him, a confused look on his face.

_**He came to the store, a few hours ago. Wanting to buy something straight away.** _

_**What? Are you serious? Oh my god, were your parents there?** _

Omar told him had lucky been alone in the store due to the death of Rachid Al Najjar. And while he considered it for the split of a second, Omar didn't mention anything else about his encounter with Ander. He had taken the two hundred euro note out of his jacket, handing it to Samuel.

_**Can you give this to him tomorrow?** _

With huge eyes, Samuel had first stared at the note, before looking at his friend.

_**What is this about? Are you in trouble? Does he … blackmail you or something? Why are you owing him that much money? Is that why you asked all those questions?** _

Omar had laughed, shaking his head.

_**No, as I said, he wanted to buy something straight away. And you know that I don't keep anything in the store. He forgot the money. And I am not sure if I will make it to the bridge tomorrow. Things are a bit complicated at the moment.** _

Telling Samuel that he was likely to be in charge of the store for all the remaining evenings of the week with his parents attending the daily evening prayers for their deceased friend, Omar handed him the money.

_**Thank you, Samu!** _

Samuel watched him intently for a second, before nodding and pocketing it.

_**Sure, I'd do anything for you, Omar! That's what best friends are for! But honestly, I wish you would stop selling drugs. I don't want you to get in trouble. I can't lose you too; just … just be careful, okay?** _

Omar had nodded, seeing the worry in Samuel's eyes, reflecting what he meant to him. His heart beat had quickened and he had known that it would be impossible to hide who he was from Samuel any longer.

_**There is something you should know!** _

The words had tumbled from his lips, before he had the chance to think about how to go along with this. Just blurting it out felt weird, but connecting it to what had happened, to Ander, felt even weirder.

_**Shoot!** _

Omar had nodded, taking all his courage together. The moment he was about to open his mouth, a hand had landed in his neck, shaking him playfully.

_**Omar, buddy! How are you doing? And you, Samuel? Shouldn't you start going to bed earlier now that school has started again, huh? Can't I be out of the house for a few hours without you running loose?** _

Omar really liked Nano, but in that moment he had wanted to strangle him. He had grinned, trying to get his heart beat to calm down, while listening to Nano's small talk for a while. His thoughts elsewhere, making it hard to focus.

_**That girl … god, she was ugly as sin! It wasn't even the girl from the pictures she send me, because that was a hot chick, I can tell you! I couldn't wait to get away from her! So, Samuel! Let's head home! I need a beer to forget this disaster!** _

Omar had watched them disappear around the corner of the street; satisfied about the snippets of information he now had on Ander, but regretting that he didn't get a chance to tell Samuel the truth about himself. He knew that it would take him a lot to work up that courage again.

A knock on his door ripped him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes, realized that he must have missed the time to get up.

“Omar, I need you downstairs! Hurry up now!”

Sighing, he pushed the covers away and jumped out of bed.

It should have been just another day in the spiral of hopelessness that was his life, but somehow Omar felt a little bit lighter, like there might be a tiny little chance, that things got better, that he could be happy.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Ander leaned with his back against the wall of the old bridge, his gaze directed into the distance, watching the sun disappear behind the trees. He cast another quick look at his watch sighing with frustration. 

_He won't come!_

He had been waiting for this moment all day long, not being able to concentrate in school for even just a second. Since he had laid his eyes on Omar yesterday, he couldn't get him out of his mind. The fact that he had been getting himself off at night, the picture of Omar's eyes dark with desire, sucking him off on his knees in front of his inner eye, didn't exactly make it easier. 

_There is something between us!_

_He must have felt it too!_

_That spark when I touched his hands!_

Pacing up and down, Ander thought back to the strange conversation he had had with Samuel. During one of the breaks at school, he had been standing in a quiet corner, shielding himself from the teachers' view, smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves. Samuel had approached him, trying to hand him some money. 

_**What is this about?** _

_**It's from Omar! You forgot it at his parents' store! He doesn't know if he can make it today or not, so he asked me to give it back to you! Com'on take it, before someone sees us like this!** _

Ander had liked his lips, a bit confused. He hadn't even realized that he had forgotten his money, but he was surely not accepting it back. The way he thought about Omar, he was pretty sure, that he would not be willing to keep it for good. It might increase the likelihood of him showing up after all.

_**Put it away; I won't take it! Tell Omar that I am expecting to see him at the bridge tonight, I'm sure he will find a way! I will be waiting for him ... at 9!** _

Samuel had stared at him hard, trying to push the money into his hands, but Ander had thrown his cigarette away, stepping out of the corner. Unwilling to give up his chance of seeing Omar that evening.

_**Hey, be careful with what you do! If you get Omar into trouble, I will make sure that you are going to regret it! Okay?** _

Ander had tried not to laugh. With Samuel looking approximately as dangerous as a sloth, the fact that he was trying to protect his friend was rather adorable than intimidating. Without an answer, he had turned around and walked back to their classroom, wanting the school day to be over as fast as possible.

After a quick shower and an endless time in front of the mirror, unsure what to wear, Ander had arrived at the bridge more than one hour ago. He was starting to feel cold and a little bit angry. He wanted Omar to show up, he needed to talk to him. Moving his hands through his curls, he put his head into his hands and stared over the calm surface of the barrage below him.

_This is bullshit!_

Maybe he should have gone to the party Guzmán had invited him to. He could be having a drink right now, listening to the chatter of his friends, forgetting his worries and that weird feeling that had nested in his stomach for a few hours, instead of standing here on this bridge. Guzmán hadn't been happy when Ander had said that he wasn't in the mood, feeling that their friendship had changed over the summer with Ander being distant at times.

_Is this really worth it?_

_He might not even have thought about me since I left that store!_

_Happy to see me gone after the mess that I made!_

It was close to 10 o'clock, he had waited nearly one hour for Omar to show up. He was certainly not going to make a fool out of himself, waiting for an almost stranger, with hopeful eyes like an abandoned dog who was still believing that his owners would be back any second instead of having driven off on him. He snipped his cigarette away and rubbed his hands over his face.

_Fuck this!_

He turned around, the frustration obvious in his face. He was about to walk away, when he spotted a person at the far end of the bridge, partially hidden by the shadows, slowly walking into his direction. His breath was quickening and it only took him a few seconds to recognize the beautiful features of the boy that was approaching him.

_He's here!_

_He came!_

_Don't mess this up!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puh ... so, Omar had the courage to show up at the bridge! 💪 
> 
> This chapter was aiming at illustrating how both Omar and Ander felt after this first, quite intense encounter.  
> And it had quite a bit of storyline build-up as well. It might not seem important at the moment, but a lot of the elements introduced will be needed/used at later points of the story! 
> 
> As always, I would be very happy to hear what you think! It is such a big motivation to keep on writing even after long days at work! 💜
> 
> I am really looking forward to share the next chapter with you! 
> 
> Have a nice weekend!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Time for a new chapter! 🙂 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments that you left behind! 💜
> 
> I am happy to know that someone is following Ander and Omar on the journey I have been sending them on! 
> 
> This chapter is quite long, I wanted to leave enough room for a conversation and I always struggle a bit to write those! 
> 
> Would love to hear what you think and how you feel about it in order improve my writing! 
> 
> Enjoy this new chapter! ❣️

Approaching Ander slowly, Omar tried to calm his breath. Not wanting the other boy to know that he had been running nearly the whole way from his parents' store to the bridge. Afraid that he had taken his decision to come too late, that Ander had already left.

***

_Omar had been torn all day long, changing his mind every other minute. Wanting to see Ander again, the strange feeling from their first encounter still fresh in his mind and curious to find out more about him, to get to know him, to put a finger on this feeling. But he had also been afraid. Afraid about letting someone close. Afraid of getting hurt. Afraid that his parents might find out about his secrets._

_When Samuel had passed by the store in the late afternoon, giving the money back to Omar with a muttered apology, he had been annoyed. Angry that Ander had refused to take it back, feeling pressured to show up at the meeting point. Hating that feeling. He had put the money away, determined to stay where he was, to let Ander regret his decision._

_But the ticking of the clock that hang behind the counter was suddenly starting to drive him crazy. Trying to avoid looking at it, he kept himself busy, reordering one of the shelves his father always grumbled about, sorting out fruits and vegetables that had small bruises for their personal use._

_But he wasn't able stop himself from casting a quick look at the clock every few minutes. With the watch hand steadily approaching 9 o'clock, he grew more and more restless. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he tried to figure out what he really wanted. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself down, while rubbing his sweaty palms against his worn jeans._

_**Shit, this is driving me crazy!** _

_After a few seconds, he reopened his eyes. With his gaze landing straight on the shelf with the chickpeas, among them the can that Ander had grabbed yesterday, a short laugh escaped his mouth. He had to go, he couldn't take the risk of wondering about what would have been._

_The moment he finally took his decision, the door to the store opened. A mother ushered two children inside, pulling a big trolley over the threshold and holding the longest shopping list Omar had ever seen in her hand._

_**Please, this must be a joke!** _

_Plastering a fake smile on his face, Omar nodded in her direction, welcoming her inside like his father had taught them to do. He watched the children run down the aisles, while the mother took all her time going over her list, putting each item into her trolley in what felt like slow motion._

_Omar nervously rubbed his neck, a quick glance at the clock telling him that it was 9 o'clock. He licked his lips, knowing full well that his father didn't want them to be intrusive towards their customers, wanting them to come back instead of running from their store, but he couldn't stop himself._

“ _Excuse me, can I help with anything? Get a few items from your list, maybe? Or I could start to cash in and pack what you already have?”_

_He forced himself to look friendly and helpful, instead of showing how annoyed he actually was. The woman looked up, a slightly confused look on her face, but after casting a quick glance into the direction of her children that were clearly on the brink of losing patience, she nodded._

“ _Oh, thank you so much! That would be great!”_

_Omar smiled, hoping that the relief wasn't obvious on his face. He hurrying towards the door, grabbing one of the small baskets and handing it to the woman, while pulling the trolley towards the counter. The woman thanked him, working herself through her list at a faster pace, while Omar started to cash in her groceries and to pack them carefully back into her trolley._

_**9h15.** _

_**Com'on!** _

_**Com'on, hurry up!** _

_**Please, please, please!** _

_A few endless minutes later, Omar closed the door behind the woman and her children. After flipping the sign around, he leaned against the door for a short second, collecting himself. He felt a tingle of excitement running through his body and knew that he had taken the right decision._

_**Please let him still be there!** _

_Omar hurried towards the door to their living quarters. Inattentive for just the split of a second, he didn't see the cherry tomato that was lying on the floor, stepping straight onto it. Losing his balance, he tried to get a hold on one of the shelves, but instead of catching himself, he dragged a package of flour down with him._

_Trying to soften the impact with the floor, Omar put his hands in front of him, twisting his wrist slightly. Gasping, he rubbed his hurting joint and looked around himself in disbelief, a white cloud of flour dust in the air, slowly rippling onto the wooden tiles and covering them like snow._

_**This can't be happening!** _

_**Someone must truly hate me!** _

_Omar, who was rarely losing his temper, was close to screaming from frustration. Blinking back the tears of anger that were burning in his eyes, he got up and tried to shrug the flour from his clothes. Pinching his lips together, he hurried into the storage and started cleaning up the mess in front of him._

_He could have taken it as a sign, a bad omen even, but instead of doubting his decision, Omar was more determined than ever. This store with all its pitfalls, be it slow costumers or packages of flour, had been ruling his life for far too long. He was fed up with this, with feeling trapped, with letting his life flow by, being nothing but a silent observer._

_**9h28!** _

_Hurrying upstairs, he was hoping that Nadia would be willing to take over for him. But if not, he would be closing early, wishing for his parents to be home as late as yesterday, never finding out about what he had done. It should have surprised him how far he was willing to go to make it to the bridge, but it didn't. For the first time in a long while, maybe for the first time ever, he wanted something for himself, something he thought could change his life._

***

Nadia hadn't been asking questions. One look into her brother's face was all she had needed to agree to Omar's request. It was close to 10 o'clock the moment he had reached the bridge. And while he could barely believe it, after all the misfortune of the last hour, Ander was still waiting for him.

His hands deep in his pockets, he stood in the light of street lamp and looked into his direction. Omar stopped a few feet in front of him, feeling Ander's intense gaze on his skin. And while he usually avoided to look straight at other people, he couldn't stop himself from taking in Ander's appearance.

_He's breathtaking!_

While he had felt stressed during their first awkward encounter in his father's store and had barely been looking at the other boy, he now took his time to study his features. Omar didn't have a type he usually went for. While he didn't have any real experience with boys, he liked looking at them and had a perception for whether he found them attractive or not. But it wasn't something specific that did it for him. It was a combination of things.

And Ander seemed to have them all. He was tall with long limbs resulting in an athletic build that Omar liked. His face was especially gorgeous with perfectly arched eyebrows and lips, a light pout evident around his mouth. His eyes were of a light brown and while Omar couldn't see them well from the distance, he remembered them from yesterday and he felt a light shiver running down his spine.

_The way he looked at me yesterday!_

_I could get lost in those eyes!_

Besides his beautiful eyes, Omar remembered Ander's curls and liked to see how they slightly fell into his eyes, making him look wild and free as if a soft ocean breeze had just ruffled them up. He could only imagine how it would feel like to let his fingers glide through them, his nails softly teasing the sensitive skin below.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach had been strong since yesterday, but the realization of what it meant hit him hard, taking his breath away for a second. He felt attracted to Ander, every cell in his body aware of the other boy's presence. Within reach, but miles away at the same time.

“Hey!”

It took him a second to realize that Ander had spoken; looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look on his face. Omar cleared his throat, trying to get a grip on himself.

“Hi!”

“You came!”

Omar wasn't sure how to interpret the sound of Ander's voice. A bit rough, deep, he had for a short second the impression that there was a hint of relief.

_Relief that I came?_

_Or that he can finally buy his drugs?_

Because that was the reason they were here. The reason Ander had come to his father's store in the first place and whatever Omar felt or tried to interpret into the other boy's voice was nothing but wishful thinking.

_You don't even know whether he is gay or not!_

“So, ehm … what did you want?”, he asked.

Selling nothing but weed and some light party pills, Omar hoped that he had whatever Ander wanted. Afraid to have to let him down, to force Ander to look for his drugs elsewhere, not having a reason to see him again.

Samuel hated that Omar was selling drugs and he always insisted that Nano didn't give him too much, angry about the fact that his brother had accepted to get Omar involved in his business at all, but happy on the other hand, that his friend didn't have to rely on someone that might be willing to break his neck if things went south.

Ander licked his lips, his head slightly tilted. Taking a step into Omar's direction, he shrugged.

“I would like to apologize!”, he said.

“To apologize?”, Omar asked, trying to hide the confusion from his face.

Ander nodded.

“Yeah … It wasn't fair to just show up at your parents' store. I risked getting you into trouble! And I didn't respect what you said! About not touching your things! Your drawings, I mean! You must think I'm an asshole! Overstepping like that! So, I'm glad that you came … despite all that!”

Ander had been speaking so fast, that Omar wasn't sure if he had understood everything. It was the last sentence that was ringing in his ears, a tingle of excitement running through his body.

_He's glad that I came!_

_And he was worried about me!_

“Oh, I see! It's okay! Nothing happened! I didn't get into trouble! So ehm … don't worry!”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly nervous, not knowing how much, what else to say. He watched Ander, who was smiling at him, before hoisting himself onto the wall of the bridge, turning his body into Omar's direction.

“Come and sit down with me for a bit!”, Ander said, indicated the space beside him with his hand.

Omar tried to ignore the fact that he had told his sister that he would hurry to make sure that she didn't get into trouble for his sake. Sitting down for …

_For what?_

_A conversation?_

… hadn't really been part of his initial plan. But feeling Ander's expecting eyes on him, he couldn't resist.

“Sure … why not!”

He approached the other boy and mimicked his movements, hoisting himself up. Ander seemed relaxed, his legs dangling against the wall, his upper body slightly leaned back. Omar on the other hand felt incredibly nervous, the mere closeness of Ander making it impossible for him to think clearly.

_Don't make a fool out of yourself!_

“Are you doing this since a long time?”, Ander asked.

Omar rubbed the palm of his hands over his knees, not sure what Ander wanted to know.

“Selling drugs you mean?”

Ander laughed and Omar felt mesmerized by the full sound escaping Ander's chest. It sounded beautiful in his ears, laughing out loud was something he rarely heard in his world. The small wrinkles that had appeared around the other boy's lips and the sparkle in his eyes were captivating.

He stopped laughing, a smile still prominent on his face, when looking at Omar. He moved his fingers through his curls, trying to get them out of his eyes.

“No, I'm sorry! Drawing … are you drawing since a long time?”

Omar gulped, trying to keep a blush from rising on his cheeks, thinking about the fact that Ander had seen some of his most private pictures.

“Your drawings are very impressing! They could be coming from an artist that hasn't done anything else in his life!”

A soft laugh escaped Omar's lips and he quickly looked at Ander, trying to figure out if the other boy was making fun of him, but he could see nothing in his eyes but honest interest and curiosity.

He cleared his throat and shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“Oh no, they … they are nothing special! It's just a hobby! Whenever I have a bit of time and I know that no one is there, I scribble around a bit!”

“Scribbling around?”, Ander said, disbelief in his face. “This is more than scribbling around! There seems to be a certain technique behind how you move your pencil, giving so much depth and detail to everything! I think it's a real talent!”

Omar couldn't stop himself from feeling proud. He had never shown his drawings to anyone, not even the _normal_ ones. His father surely wouldn't appreciate Omar losing his time with something useless like that and besides that their religion saw modesty as one of its most important principles. Showing around something with the desire to receive praise was clearly not encouraged.

“Thank you … I guess!”, Omar said, a small smile forming on his mouth.

Ander bit his bottom lip, a look of insecurity on his face for the split of a second.

“So … how comes that you are drawing naked men? Is it something you are interested in?”

Omar flinched. Feeling uneasy with the turn the conversation was taking, not sure why Ander was asking such a direct question, he got defensive.

“I wonder why you are not asking about my interest in drawing landscapes!”

Ander smiled. And while he had felt the shift in in Omar's mood, he wasn't willing to let it go.

“Why are you feeling so ashamed about these drawings? There is nothing wrong with them! You can be interested in whatever topic … in whatever gender you want!”

Omar couldn't stop the anger and frustration that was cursing through his veins, an ugly snort rising in his chest, bubbling out of him.

_He has no idea!_

“Well … maybe there is nothing to be ashamed about in that perfect world of yours! But my world isn't perfect and whatever you might think, those drawings … they are saying nothing about me, about who I am! So stop implying … whatever you are trying to imply!”

His lips pinched together, a frown obvious on his face, he was staring at Ander, who was looking back at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly and something that was resembling hurt flashing up in his gaze.

Ander closed his eyes shortly, taking a deep breath before opening them again and watching Omar's hands that had curled into fists, trembling slightly on his thighs.

“I think you are wrong! First, my world isn't as perfect as you might think, but that's okay! Second, those drawings … they are actually saying a great deal about you!”

When Omar didn't react, he went on, his voice calm and soft.

“They show that you are very observant, that you have an eye for the things happening around you, for all kind of details other people just don't care about! When everyone is hurrying through their days, it feels that you are stopping for a second, taking in the beauty around you, capturing it! You are expressing yourself with them, because I actually don't think that you are much of a talker!”

Silence hang heavy between them and the only thing Omar could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears, while his heart was thundering in his chest.

_This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me!_

_And this straight after I said something very stupid!_

And while he wanted to hide his face in shame, he forced himself to look at Ander. And he saw nothing but understanding there.

“I am sorry about what I said! I don't know anything about you and how your life is like. I am not in a position to judge and I should have known better!”

There, that sounded good. Apologizing was something his father had taught them. But apologizing wasn't enough, Omar felt the need to say more, to let the frustration that was sometimes suffocating him out.

“And you are right! I am not much of a talker, usually no one really wants to hear my opinion and sometimes … sometimes I feel like drawing is the only voice I actually have! The only way to feel alive, less of a prisoner!”

Avoiding to look into Ander's direction, Omar exhaled loudly, looking into the sky. It was fully dark and the stars were visible in the night, shining bright with no boundaries stopping their light.

Free like he would never be.

Ander shifted beside him, moving his hand closer to Omar's body and for the split of a second Omar was expecting him to reach out. Instead, he snipped a little stone that was lying on the wall away and both boys watched it hitting the floor and disappearing into the shadows.

“That's why I am selling drugs, you know! Trying to get enough money together to break free of all those restrictions one day!”, Omar added, before he could start feeling ashamed about his emotional outburst.

Ander nodded, his eyes fixed on Omar.

“What exactly is making you feel like a prisoner?”

Biting his lower lip, Omar shrugged. There were so many things wrong with his life, making him feel worthless and excluded, that he didn't even know where to start. How many times had he wished to share his feelings with someone besides Samuel, who always listened to him, but towards whom he had been afraid to fully open up, the fear of losing his only friend about his sexuality too much to bear.

Now, sitting here in the dark, a stranger by his side, he didn't know how to put his feelings into words. But instead of pressuring him, Ander just waited, his presence reassuring, grounding Omar in a strange way.

_Can I really trust him?_

And while Omar wasn't fully sure, the fact that Ander was going to school with his sister and his best friend a nagging worry in the back of his mind, he felt that this boy was reaching a place within him that had been closed away for far too long and that it was impossible to lock it back up without regrets.

So he took his time and apparently that was okay. When he had the feeling that his voice wasn't about to break with the first words he wanted to say, he gathered his courage and let go.

“Sometimes I feel like a caged animal, locked behind bars since the day I was born. Looking outside of my cage, I see how life is passing by me, all those days running through my fingers, full of wasted opportunities. And I am seeing all those people on the outside that are allowed to live, to feel … to be whatever they want to be!”

Omar took a short breath, his fingers grasping the edge of the wall, turning white with the sheer force of his grip. He dared to cast a quick look into Ander's direction, who was waiting for him to continue, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I would like to scream at the unfairness of it! I would like to ask my father why I am not allowed to be a part of this world. But all he says is that he needs to protect me, keeping me locked in this cage under the guise of wanting to keep me safe from sin, treachery and temptation.”

Trying to keep his emotions at bay, unwilling to let tears rise to his eyes, Omar rubbed his hands through his face, forcing himself to go on.

“All I am supposed to do is to take care of that stupid store, to be a good son, to marry a good girl from a good Muslim family and no one, no one ever asks me what I want from life! And I would just like to be young and free, like all those other boys my age. To feel alive! But there is nothing I am allowed to do. I can't meet friends when I want to, I can't go to parties I am invited to, I can't say what I think! Everything is forbidden. Drugs, sex, alcohol, having fun!”

_Say it!_

_Say it!_

“Being gay!”

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Ander was holding his breath, watching Omar slowly falling apart, giving him a glimpse at his core. Omar's frustration was palpable in the air between them, making it hard for Ander not to interrupt him, telling him how unfair all this was. That he should stand up and stop accepting all those restrictions that were forced upon him.

But Ander let Omar talk and it was only when his voice broke with that last sentence, that he dared to breathe. He saw that Omar's chest was moving rapidly with the shaky intakes of air that he was taking, wanting nothing more but to reach out and to hold him. But he was afraid that it would be too much for him to bear.

So he waited for a few seconds, before clearing his throat.

“So … is that what you are? Gay, I mean?”

He had tried to keep his voice calm, ignoring how hard his own heart was beating against his chest. But instead of answering, Omar just pinched his lips together, preventing himself from answering Ander's question.

He quickly shook his head, jumping from the wall, avoiding to meet Ander's gaze with all his force.

“It's getting late! I have to go!”

His gaze directed to the ground, Omar quickly nodded into his direction and turned around, starting to walk away. And while Ander was internally screaming at himself, angry that he hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut, saying something understanding instead of pressuring Omar, he just couldn't let their conversation end like this, unwilling to let Omar walk off on him!

_I have to know!_

He jumped from the wall and quickly grabbed Omar's wrist, pulling him back and forcing him to turn around. Stopping just a few centimetres in front of him, Omar was staring at him in disbelief, his lips slightly parted and his breath ragged. His eyes were opened wide and he was staring straight at Ander.

“Are you or are you not?”, Ander asked, feeling that the answer could change his life.

Omar swallowed, his cheeks visibly flushed.

“Why are you asking?”, he said, his voice barely audible.

Ander closed his eyes shortly, frustrated that Omar wasn't willing to answer him.

“Because I am gay!”

Omar looked at him, his dark eyebrows drawn together, insecurity evident in his face.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he asked.

His hand was shaking slightly in Ander's grip, just like yesterday when they had been kneeling at the floor. They were even closer to each other today and Ander was sure that Omar must be hearing his heartbeat.

“I just … I can't get you out of my head since I saw you!”, he whispered.

Omar's eyes were opened wide, dark orbs reflecting the shine of the closest street lamp and Ander had the feeling of getting lost in them. He stepped even closer to Omar, backing him up against the wall of the bridge.

For the split of a second he was surprised to feel no resistance, considering that Omar hadn't reacted to what he had said. Their breathing mingled in the small space that was still separating them and Ander moved his hand up, trailing his fingers over the soft skin of Omar's neck, leaving goose bumps behind.

Unable to believe that he was this close to Omar, he dropped his gaze to his lips. Wetting them nervously with his tongue, Omar swallowed hard, his body registering every move that Ander made. And while Ander would have wishes for a clearer sign, he wasn't able to resist the temptation in front of him for just a second longer.

Knowing that he had never wanted to kiss anyone else in his life as badly as he did now, he leaned into Omar's direction, crossing the distance that was still separating them. He brought their lips together, desire cursing through his veins, surprised at how soft and compliant Omar's mouth felt below his own.

He tightened his grip on Omar's neck, pulling him in closer and tilting his head slightly, while kissing him more intensely, gasping softly when Omar started to timidly move his lips against his own.

No longer holding back, Ander pressed his body against Omar's forcing a small moan to escape the other boy's lips. He used his chance to let his tongue glide into the warmth of Omar's mouth, but before he was able to explore the sweetness of it, he felt Omar's hand pressing against his chest, breaking them apart.

“Don't!”, he gasped, out of breath. “I am not …!”

Frustration was curing through Ander, hearing Omar's trembling voice and the way he moved his body away. He lifted his hand and for the split of a second, he made the impression as if he wanted to rub the memory of Ander's mouth off his lips, but he stopped himself, letting his hand drop helplessly against his thigh.

“You are not what? Huh?”, Ander asked, his voice barely under control, feeling rejected. “Not gay? Well … stop lying to yourself, stop being the prisoner your father is making out of you, because the way you kissed me back a few seconds ago gives me another impression.”

His cheeks flushed, Omar was staring back at him. He blinked his eyes rapidly and he seemed confused. He swallowed, rubbing his hand through his short air, avoiding Ander's eyes.

“Say something!”, Ander said, stepping back slightly, his eyebrows drawn together.

Omar lifted his eyes and shrugged.

“Not ready … that's what I had wanted to say! But then … I realized how stupid that must sound!”, he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

When Ander just stared at him, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them, shifting his weight uneasily from one foot to the other.

“This was a bit fast! I mean … I don't know you and I haven't kissed another boy … anyone before!”

Ander exhaled loudly, relief prominent on his face. He forced himself to ignore what Omar's admission that he had never kissed anyone else before did to him. 

“And do you want to get to know me?”, he asked.

_Please say you do!_

_Please say you do!_

Omar nodded.

“Yes, I think I do!”, he said, a shy smile on his face.

Ander laughed, before biting his lower lip and taking in the way Omar was looking at him.

“You think you do? I guess that must be good enough for now!”, he said.

And for the first time this evening, both of them were laughing. Ander watched Omar closely and enjoyed to see that he seemed to be way more comfortable than just a few seconds ago.

“So, how should we do that, getting to know each other? Should we exchange numbers?”, Ander suggested, taking out his cellphone.

_Say yes!_

_Don't make me look like a fool!_

_Don't let this be the polite way of telling me to fuck off!_

But to his relief, Omar nodded immediately.

“Give me yours and I will pass you a call!”, Ander said.

He quickly entered the digits Omar told him, dialled and lifted his phone to show Omar that the call was being processed. Omar smiled the moment his cellphone started to vibrate and pulled it out of the back-pocket of his jeans.

But the moment his eyes fell onto his display, he frowned.

**[Omar, when will you be home? I think you should hurry! Abdal passed the store on his way home and he was with mother and father at the Al Najjar's. I am sure they will be back soon!]**

“Are you okay?”

He had seen the fear flashing up in Omar's eyes and knew that something must be up. Omar swallowed, before shaking his head.

“I need to go home! Quickly, if I don't want my father to find out that I left without his permission!”

Omar's voice was shaky and instead of pointing out all the things that were wrong with the fear that his father was apparently able to raise in him, Ander just nodded.

“Let me drop you off at your place! I'm here with my bike!”, he offered.

“I'm not sure that's a good idea!”, Omar mumbled.

“Com'on now! I can let you jump off a few blocks away! You will be back a lot faster if you let me help you!”

“Okay!”

Ander smiled reassuringly, gripping Omar's hand and pulling him behind. Together they were running to the stairs, leading them towards the place he had locked up his bike.

Unchaining it as quickly as possible, he swung himself up on the saddle and motioned for Omar to quickly sit on the luggage rack.

“Hold yourself tight!”, he screamed over his shoulder.

When he felt how Omar wrapped his arms around his hips, he took a deep breath and then he pedalled as quickly as he could, unwilling to let go of the happiness that he had just found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Take care and see you for the next chapter! 💜


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :) 
> 
> This weekend has been a bit busy, but I finally found a bit of time to upload the next chapter! 🙂
> 
> Thank you very much for all the kudos and comments! It's always a pleasure! 
> 
> I guess this chapter is going to be a bit of a roller coaster ride, but I hope that you are going to enjoy it! ❣️

The streets were pretty empty and Ander didn't have to worry about traffic. He only slowed down when he had to turn a corner, not wanting Omar to get hurt. The other boy's arms were tightly wrapped around his hips and he could feel his warm body pressed against his back.

_I kissed him!_

_He wants to get to know me!_

His lips were still tingling, the memory of how Omar's mouth tasted vivid in his mind. He didn't know what it was, but somehow Omar was intoxicating, triggering a deep desire in him that he had never experienced before.

And the desire went far beyond the physical. It was more than the simple urge to kiss him, to taste his body and to devour him. It rather felt like a throbbing need to get to know him, to understand, comfort and support him.

Overwhelmed by the intense feelings he was experiencing after such a short time, a small shiver ran through his body, understanding that he was falling for Omar.

And it was frightening him!

_What is happening to me?_

Approaching the suburb Omar lived in, he slowed down, trying to figure out where to let Omar off his bike. He remembered the park he had passed yesterday, connecting the main street with the smaller one the store was located at.

Stopping his bike carefully, he turned around. Omar stood up, slowly letting go of him, his eyebrows pulled together in anxiety.

“Is this okay? It shouldn't be more than two minutes from here!”

Omar nodded, rubbing his neck nervously.

“Yeah … sure! Thank you!”

His voice was shaky and Ander had the impression that he had wanted to say something more, something else maybe, but he knew that this wasn't the right time.

“Hurry up! I don't want you to get into trouble!”

Omar looked at him one last time, before turning around. The moment his shape disappeared in the darkness, Ander closed his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, he hoped that everything would be okay.

Having his own share of conflict at home, he knew how ugly things could get. But the way Omar had talked about his father, the way a message from his sister froze him in fear, he could only imagine how bad Omar's situation must be.

_How does he get through this?_

_How can anyone suffer in silence for so long?_

The loneliness, the exclusion and helplessness into which his father was forcing Omar must be impossible to endure. Ander couldn't imagine what it meant to be without friends, without the freedom to voice his opinion and to enjoy his life. He would be nothing but an empty shell and he might have given up already and he was admiring Omar's strength.

And it was in this moment, that Ander whispered a promise into the night.

_I'll be there, if you need me!_

_No matter how difficult it is going to be!_

And he was a man who kept his promises.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

With their closing time approaching and Omar nowhere to be seen, Nadia had started to take over her brother's chores. She had closed the blinds, emptied the garbage bins, cleaned the scales for the fruits and vegetables. With a notepad in her hands, she had gone around the shelves, taking note of all the items that would have to be restocked in the morning.

She had been throwing a look at her cellphone every now and then, but Omar hadn't replied to her message and she was starting to grow anxious, knowing that their parents could show up any second now and that she had no idea how to explain Omar's absence. She was a terrible liar and her father would realize straight away that something was wrong.

She moved back behind the counter, biting the nail of her thumb, a worried expression on her face. After another look at her phone, she shook her head and sighed. She had known that taking over for Omar was a bad idea straight from the beginning, but there had been a light in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. And she hadn't been able to say no!

_Please, don't let me regret this!_

She was counting the daily income, making separate stacks for each banknote and piling the coins into small stacks of ten, before noting the correct amount into their cash book, when the door to the store was pushed open.

She jerked her head up hoping to see her brother, but to her horror it were their parents, tired expressions on their faces. Especially her father looked exhausted. She forced herself to smile, trying to look like everything was okay.

But of course her father wasted no time. His eyebrows tightly drawn together, he ushered his wife inside, letting his gaze wander around the shop.

“What are you doing there? Where is Omar?”, he asked, his voice cold.

Nadia bit her lower lip, trying hard to come up with a plausible answer, anything that would appease her father and make the situation easier for Omar when he showed up. But her mind was blank and with her father staring at her, she was at a loss of words.

“Where is he?”

His voice trembled with anger and he leaned forward, his hands curling into fists on the counter. Nadia stared up at him, a hint of fear in her eyes. She licked her lips and opened her mouth, knowing that whatever she said would make the situation worse.

“I am here, father!”

All eyes turned to Omar, who had appeared in the door leading towards the storage, a box with oranges in his hands. Nadia let out a silent breath, feeling the tension drain from her body.

“I already got some of the items that we need to refill!”

Nadia could hear that Omar was slightly out of breath and saw that his chest was rising and falling too fast. Even his hands grabbing the box were shaking slightly, but before anyone else could notice, she quickly jumped in.

“Yes, I offered Omar my help to close the store! We wanted to be done before you got home, so there is nothing to worry about anymore! We know that the last days must have been hard on you!”

Their father shook his head, a small smile appearing on his tired face.

“What would I be without my children!”

He leaned forward, squeezing Nadia's hand and nodded gratefully into Omar's direction.

“Come, Yusef! Let's go upstairs, it has been a long day!”, his wife said.

When their parents had left, Omar leaned back against the door frame, exhaling loudly.

_This has been awfully close!_

_Too close!_

When he had run out of the park, turning the corner towards their street, he had seen their parents opening the door to the store. His heart had nearly stopped in his chest, but he had crossed the street as fast as he could, pulling the key to the storage out of his pocket.

With trembling hands he had managed to unlock the door. Shrugging out of his jacket, he had grabbed the first box that he could get. Stepping into the store in the very last second, he had struggled to keep his legs from shaking, trying to force an innocent expression on his face.

Feeling Nadia's eyes on his skin, he looked at her, mouthing a silent thank you. Her head was tilted to the side and she was studying him intently, but decided against asking questions.

“The list with all the items that need to be restocked tomorrow is pinned right here and I am nearly done with counting the money! I'll finish this for you!”

Omar smiled at her, grateful to have her on his side.

“Thank you, _mariquita_!”, he whispered with a rough voice. 

He quickly went back into the storage, grabbed his jacket and disappeared upstairs.

Raising his hand to his lips, he had the impression that he could still feel Ander's kiss. He had inhaled his scent when leaning against him on the bike and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stay away from him. He had to get to know this boy, to figure out where this would lead him. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was too intense, too exciting to be buried in fear.

_I'll meet him again!_

_No matter the risks!_

Because Omar was done.

He was done being afraid.

He was done being a prisoner.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Ander moved his body to the beat of the music, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. After he had dropped off Omar, he had been too agitated to go home. With the nagging worry of whether Omar had made it back safely still prominent on his mind, he took a sip from his drink, letting his gaze wander around the crowd dancing in the living room of Guzmán's house.

When Guzmán caught his gaze from across the room, he nodded into Ander's direction, making it clear that he would be coming over to him as soon as he would get rid of the girls that were trying to get him into a conversation. Ander smiled. Even knowing that he hadn't been fair towards Guzmán these last months, he knew that he could always count on his childhood friend.

_Maybe I should tell him!_

_About the shit going on at home!_

_About where I was tonight!_

When Guzmán had opened the front door, seeing Ander standing there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, he had known that something was off with his friend. Ander's eyebrows had been drawn together tightly, a clear indication that he was worried about something. But Guzmán had been happy, that Ander had shown up at the party, that he still cared about their friendship and had motioned him inside.

Standing close to the door to the backyard, Ander took a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke escape from his lips in small puffs, that disappeared into the night sky. He glanced at his cellphone, hoping to see a message from Omar popping up, but he had no new notifications.

_Should I write him?_

_Check if everything is okay?_

_Show him that I care?_

Ander wasn't sure. He didn't want to get Omar into even more trouble than he might already be in. With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he was pocketing his cellphone, when Guzmán appeared beside him. He playfully wrapped his arm around Ander's shoulder and rubbed his fist against his temple.

“What's up?”

Ander shrugged out of his grip, a smile on his face, knowing that he had missed Guzmán and happy that his friend wasn't angry at him despite his aloof behaviour of the past weeks.

“I'm okay, I guess!”

Guzmán tilted his head, looking at his friend intently.

“The summer has been a mess!”, Ander continued.

Not saying anything, just leaning against the glass window beside Ander, Guzmán listened.

“I'm sorry that I haven't called you or … answered your messages! There's been a lot going on and I don't know, I haven't been feeling that well! I … ”

Ander licked his bottom lip, avoiding to look into Guzmán's direction. He wasn't proud of his behaviour and knowing that there was nothing that could explain the way he had treated his friend, he actually felt ashamed. But he wasn't able to put his feelings into words and so he closed his mouth and remained silent, staring outside.

“It's okay, Ander!”, Guzmán said.

Ander turned around, looking at his friend. He was grateful, knowing that not everyone would have reacted that way. And he wanted to do better, showing Guzmán that he wasn't willing to give up their friendship.

“I just want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?”

Ander nodded, trying to control his voice.

“Thank you!”

Guzmán smiled, his lips stretched wide and he quickly squeezed Ander's shoulder before letting go of him. Someone was calling his name and while rolling his eyes playfully, Guzmán turned around, seeing his girlfriend Lu standing at the other side of the room, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“I guess she just discovered that I am not following her dress code!”, he said, rubbing his neck.

Ander had to laugh, knowing that Lu was quite a diva and that his friend was sometimes lost trying to handle her and her countless wishes.

“Good luck!”, Ander whispered, a glint of humour in his eyes.

He watched his friend disappear in the crowd. He was emptying his gin tonic, when he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. Feeling his heart beat accelerate, he pulled it out as quickly as he could and unlocked his screen.

His instant messenger app was displaying a new notification.

_Please let it be him!_

_Let him be okay!_

Holding his breath, he opened the app, his hands shaking slightly.

**[Omar: I'm sorry!]**

_Oh no!_

_What does that mean?_

Seeing that Omar was still typing, Ander was biting his bottom lip nervously.

**[Omar: I forgot to give you your money back!]**

Ander leaned his head back, a laugh escaping his lips.

**[Omar: I guess that means I have to see you again!]**

Omar's words were making Ander's heart jump. Having Omar reaching out to him with a first message and stating so clearly that he wanted to see him again was more than he had dared to hope for.

**[Ander: Does that mean that you are okay?]**

He had to know and he couldn't stop himself from asking, knowing that Omar might have preferred to skip the topic. Seeing that he wasn't typing anymore, he send another message, trying to lighten the mood.

**[Ander: And don't worry about the money! We don't need an excuse to meet!]**

**[Omar: I'll give it back next time!]**

Ander was feeling slightly frustrated, both because Omar hadn't answered his question and because he kept talking about the money.

**[Ander: You know what! Keep it and invite me to diner with it! I can't wait to get to know you! Tonight was amazing!]**

Watching his screen, the dancing crowd around him completely forgotten, he frowned when he realized that Omar had read his message, but that he was no longer online. Closing his eyes, he sighed.

_Give him time!_

_Don't pressure him!_

With all he knew about Omar, remembering how insecure and shy he had been especially the first time they had met, he knew that pressure wouldn't lead him anywhere. But he couldn't hide what he was feeling. He was excited to see Omar again, to get to know him, to kiss him again.

And for the first time, he understood, that whatever might develop between them would always be fragile, a castle build of sand, that could be endangered and washed away with each and every wave hitting too close.

_He might break my heart!_

Feeling bothered by the cheerful atmosphere around him, Ander pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against and slowly made his way to the door. He was looking for his jacket, when his cellphone signalled another message.

**[Omar: Ander, whatever you expect this … us to be, it won't be easy!]**

**[Ander: I don't like easy! Easy is boring!]**

**[Omar: Chances are high that I will be a disappointment to you!]**

**[Ander: Let me prove you wrong!]**

Rubbing his neck, Ander waited for a reply, afraid that Omar would try to push him away before they even had the opportunity to actually figure out what was happening between them. He gasped in surprise, when someone was leaning into him from behind.

“Ander? What are you doing here? Guzmán told me that you wouldn't come!”

Hiding his cellphone from sight, Ander turned around, coming face to face with Polo. He stepped back, letting his fingers trail through his curls, moving them out of his eyes. Polo was looking at him, his gaze intense. And Ander knew exactly what this expression meant.

“I just stopped by for a drink! I'll be heading home now!”

Licking his bottom lip, his head slightly tilted, Polo shrugged.

“Well, I was about to leave too! And my mothers aren't home!”

Ander didn't react, but Polo didn't give up so easily.

“Why don't you spend the night at my place?”, he said, his voice low and seductive.

Shaking his head, Ander pulled his jacket over his shoulders. Avoiding Polo's gaze, he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, thinking about what they had done at countless occasions like this one.

Carla and Polo were together since quite a while now and while Ander had seen her with Christian at the party and knew that they had kind of an open relationship, he sometimes had difficulties wrapping his head around the exact dynamics between Carla and Polo.

_I'd never be willing to share the person I love with someone else!_

_It would break my heart!_

Sometimes he had the impression that Polo felt left out, looking for someone that was willing to restore his confidence. And while Ander wasn't officially out at school, both Guzmán and Polo knew that he was gay.

With Polo being bisexual, Ander had taken him up on his offer many times in the past. They had been exploring their sexuality with each other, getting each other off with both their hands and mouths, without ever taking things further.

And while Polo was looking at him with parted lips and a hungry gaze in his eyes, Ander felt nothing, not even the slightest tingle of desire. Sure, Polo was good-looking, he was available and uncomplicated, but he wasn't Omar.

_He isn't what I want!_

“Polo, I'm sorry! Not this time! Not … not anymore!”

Polo looked at him with raised eyebrows, his arms crossed in front of his body. Disappointment evident in his eyes. But Ander didn't have anything else to say. Nodding into Polo's direction, squeezing his shoulder for just a second, Ander walked past him, out into the night.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

_10 days ..._

… _since we've seen each other for the first time!_

_2 days ..._

_... since we last talked to each other!_

Ander was lying on his bed with his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He was biting his lower lip in frustration, casting another quick look at his cellphone, but nothing.

No new message!

No missed call!

The first days after their meeting at the bridge had actually been good. They had been exchanging messages whenever they could. Ander had been falling asleep twice at school, having been awake all night, writing to Omar. Talking about a million different things, he sometimes had the impression that Omar knew more about himself than anybody else and that he could open up about things that he preferred not to share with others.

Omar on the other hand had often been avoiding to answer questions. Ander had the feeling that he just stopped writing for a while if something got too personal, too emotional for him, getting back to Ander hours later, telling him that he had been busy at the store, unable to write back. But instead of taking up the conversation where he had let off, he changed the topic.

Ander had been annoyed about this, wanting to understand Omar as a person, which was going further than knowing about his favourite movie, the songs he liked to listen to or the country he would like to travel to one day.

_We are not even in a relationship and things are already complicated!_

Rolling onto his stomach, Ander grabbed his cellphone and opened his instant messenger. Since Omar had stopped writing him and refused to return his calls, Ander had gone through their messages a million times, trying to understand why Omar was pushing him away.

_Have I really been pressuring him that badly?_

_Wanting too much too soon?_

Ander sighed, looking at the last messages he had written, the ones that had stayed without an answer.

**[Ander: Omar, listen! Don't push me away!]**

**[Ander: I know that I have been saying a few harsh things and I understand if you are angry.]**

**[Ander: Com'on, pick up your damn phone! Let's talk about this one more time!]**

**[Ander: Okay, I get it! You don't want to talk, but at least think about it!]**

**[Ander: Omar … please! It's been two days, say something!]**

Seeing that Omar had been online just a few minutes ago, he bit his lower lip in frustration, hiding his face in his pillow. They had been meeting each other a few times these last days, a stolen minute here and there, a chance to look into Omar's beautiful eyes, to breathe him in and to feel his presence by his side.

And those short moments had been better than nothing, even if they had left him longing for Omar even more. He couldn't stop thinking about spending time with Omar, imagining them to be nothing but normal teenagers, having a crush on each other, wanting to spend every second in the other one's presence. And this had exactly been the point!

The point they had been arguing about when they had last seen each other two days ago. The day, where Omar had turned around and left him standing in the park, his hands curled into fists and anger cursing through his veins, unable to understand what had just happened.

***

_**Ander had decided to skip his tennis training the moment Omar had asked him if he could meet him in the park. Driving as fast as he could, he had made it there in record time, excited to see Omar after the long conversations they had shared via messenger.** _

_**He saw Omar leaning against a tree, his hand stuffed in his pockets. He looked uneasy, checking his watch every few second. Ander tried to ignore the strange feeling in his gut, but it was clear that something wasn't okay.** _

“ _ **Hey!”**_

_**Omar turned into his direction, nodding shortly.** _

“ _ **Hey!”**_

“ _ **Are you okay?”, Ander asked, forcing his voice to sound normal.**_

_**Omar cleared his throat, clearly avoiding Ander's gaze.** _

“ _ **Listen!”, he said. “We have to forget about this! About us! It isn't worth it!”**_

_**Ander started at Omar, not understanding where this was coming from. The messages they had exchanged during the last days had been perfect. He had loved the way they were able to talk about trivial things, stuff they liked, things they wanted to do, while also talking about more serious things.** _

_**Omar had asked Ander what he had meant by saying that his world wasn't perfect. And Ander had actually been opening up to Omar, telling him what sometimes happened at home, how angry it made him feel, how powerless. That he hated feeling so weak, but that he didn't know what to do apart from keeping his mouth shut and spending every moment he could outside of his father's reach.** _

_**And Omar had told him about Palestine, the country where he was born and where he occasionally spent the summers with his parents and his sister whenever they had saved enough to afford visiting their family. He had told Ander how he sometimes missed the dry ground beneath his feet and the smell of ripe figs hanging in the air. How the people there and their strict beliefs made him miss Spain and cherish the tiny bits of freedom he had in the country they had moved to, while everything around him smelled of home and made him feel so very aware that home actually didn't really exist for him. Understanding that he was a foreigner in both countries.** _

_**Ander had felt such a strong connection between them, something he had never felt for anyone else before.** _

_**And now Omar was standing in front of him, pushing him away. Pretending that all those conversations and shared secrets had never happened, telling him that getting to know each other wasn't worth it.** _

_**Getting a bit of air into his lungs, Ander stepped closer, forcing Omar to look at him.** _

“ _ **What do you mean by … by it isn't worth it?”**_

_**Omar bit his lower lip, shrugging angrily. He took out his cellphone, scrolling through the messages they had exchanged, stopping every now and then, throwing them into Ander's face, trying desperately to keep his voice from breaking.** _

“ _ **Keep it and invite me to diner with it!”**_

“ _ **The party was nice! Join me next time!”**_

“ _ **I also love sci-fi! Let's go to the movies together next time!”**_

“ _ **Tennis isn't that important to me anymore! But maybe … if you'd come and watch me play, I'd enjoy it again!”**_

“ _ **Palestine sounds like a beautiful place! Maybe you can take me there in the summer?”**_

_**Omar glared at Ander, his eyes dark and unreadable.** _

“ _ **I know what I wrote, Omar and I meant everything of it! Why … why are you so angry?”**_

_**Ander had lifted his hand slightly, completely unable to follow what was happening.** _

“ _ **Don't you understand, Ander? All those things, they are never going to happen!”**_

_**Exhaling the breath he had been holding, Ander rubbed his neck uneasily.** _

“ _ **Listen, Omar! I understand that …!”**_

_**But Omar interrupted him angrily, his voice shaking.** _

“ _ **No, you are going to listen Ander! Nothing of this shit is every going to be true. I won't be partying with you, I won't be going to the movies with you, there won't be diners in fancy restaurants, there won't be tennis tournaments where I am cheering at you and we are certainly not going to Palestine together!”**_

_**Omar chest was moving rapidly, his hands curled into fists and Ander couldn't speak.** _

“ _ **Not now, not ever! Do you understand? Because the only fucking thing I can offer you are a few stolen minutes here and there!”**_

_**For the split of a second, Ander was sure that Omar would start crying. Leaning against the tree, he was blinking rapidly, trying to get himself under control.** _

“ _ **I'm sorry, okay? I wish it could be different! But it's because of me, of who I am, that this isn't worth it! You deserve better, you deserve someone who is willing to do all those things with you, not someone that has nothing to offer but long nights of messages and a few stolen minutes every other day!”**_

_**Omar pushed himself off the tree, clearly wanting to leave. He walked past Ander, who felt like someone had punched him straight in his face. But breathing in Omar's smell, seeing the pain in his eyes, seemed to shake him awake.** _

“ _ **Stop! Don't you dare walking off on me like this!”**_

“ _ **I'm sorry, Ander!”**_

“ _ **Just tell me one thing!”, Ander said, his voice rough. “Did you mean it, when you said that you want to get to know me? Is it what you would want if things were different?”**_

_**Omar sighed.** _

“ _ **Things aren't different!”**_

“ _ **Yes or no, Omar? It's a simple question!”**_

_**Rubbing his eyebrows, Omar nodded.** _

“ _ **Yes, there is nothing I would want more! But …!”**_

“ _ **No! Now you are going to listen to me!”**_

_**Ander was angry and he wasn't about to hide how much Omar had hurt him.** _

“ _ **Do you even realize what you are doing, huh?”**_

_**Ander approached Omar, pushing his fingertip against his chest, forcing him to take a step back.** _

“ _ **It's quite ironic actually! Because I remember quite well what you hate the most about the way your father is treating you! You hate the way he is making decision for you, not giving a fuck about your opinion, bending you in every direction he thinks is best! And it's exactly what you are doing to me right now!”**_

_**Omar pinched his lips together, starting at Ander in disbelief.** _

“ _ **Ander! Don't …!”**_

_**Ander clearly heard the pain in Omar's voice and he knew that he was being cruel, but he wasn't about to give up! He wasn't about to give up this fight and he most certainly wasn't about to give up Omar.** _

“ _ **The only decision you have to make is whether you want to get to know me or not and it's my fucking decision, Omar, mine … whether I am willing to live with what you have to offer or not! And I actually don't give a shit! Even if meetings like this, nothing more but a few stolen moments here and there, are all I will ever get … it's what I want! Because to me, it is worth it!”**_

_**They were staring at each other, both obviously hurt. And while Ander wanted nothing more than reaching out and pulling Omar into his arms, he forced himself to stand still. Omar's lips were parted, his cheeks flushed and his breath was coming in short, angry gasps. Silence was hanging heavy between them and Ander knew that Omar wouldn't speak.** _

“ _ **Well … let me know when you have managed to wrap your head around the fact that I can take my own fucking decisions!”**_

_**When Omar turned around, walking away from him without having said a single word, Ander wanted to scream. Staring at his back until he had disappeared, he bit his lower lip in anger, punching his fist against the tree.** _

_**Fuck!** _

_**Fuck!** _

_**Fuck!** _

_******* _

Rubbing his still sore knuckles, Ander was lost in though, staring at the selfie they had taken together before things had gone to hell. Closing his eyes, he could still picture the moment clearly in his mind.

Sitting beside each other in comfortable silence, Ander had been casting a look at Omar every now and then, mesmerized by his long lashes that made his eyes so incredibly beautiful to look at. He had used every opportunity he got to study Omar's features, wanting to see him in perfect detail in front of his inner eye, whenever he wanted to.

Shy as he was, the profile picture of Omar's instant messaging profile was nothing but a silhouette of himself staring into the sunset and the few times Ander had tried to get Omar to send him a picture, he hadn't reacted to his request.

“ _ **Hey, let's take a selfie together!”**_

_**Ander had pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, trying to adjust the angle to get them both on the picture. After a short moment of doubt, he had moved a bit closer to Omar, observing his reaction on the display. He had licked his lips shortly, before leaning into Ander's direction.** _

_**And when his hand had brushed his, Ander held his breath for a second, knowing that Omar would pull back. But instead of doing so, he touched the back of his hand, exploring the soft skin there, before entangling their fingers.** _

His head slightly turned into Omar's direction and a look full of admiration on his face, his heart beating quickly in his chest, Ander had taken the selfie, capturing that intense moment between them.

It had been the first time that Omar had initiated any kind of body contact between them and Ander had been so happy, that he had barely been able to breathe. Unable to understand how such a simple gesture could get to him in such a way. In that moment, he had been confident that somehow they would make this work.

_Well, fuck that!_

Just a few days after, he was staring at their faces, trying to figure out how Omar had felt in that very second. Wondering whether his heart had been beating just as fast, whether he had wished for the touch to last. Unable to understand why some moments between them just seemed perfect, while others left no doubt that they weren't good for each other.

Like this disastrous last time, they had seen each other!

_Why is he not even willing to fight for this?_

_For the short moments of happiness we could have?_

_Where nothing else matters!_

A knock on his door ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Ander? Are you ready?”, his mother asked.

“Huh?”

His mother opened the door, frowning when she saw him lying on his bed, wearing nothing but sweatpants and a tank top.

“I told you to be ready at 4 o'clock!”

_Oh shit!_

He had completely forgotten that he had promised his mother to go with her to the city.

“Can't you go alone?”, he asked.

His mother tilted her head, looking at him with disappointment in her eyes.

“Com'on Ander, we already had this discussion! It's your father's birthday on Saturday and we are going to chose a gift for him! Together! And no, I won't change my mind, so stop looking at me like that! See you downstairs in 10 minutes!”

With the door closing behind his mother, Ander let his head fall on the bed, exhaling loudly. He wouldn't have been in the mood to buy a gift for his father at the best of days, but today was a pure disaster. Even thinking about sitting with his parents in a restaurant on Saturday pretending to be a happy family made him feel sick.

_Well, fuck my life!_

About an hour later, Ander was standing in front of a small shop that was selling high-quality leather items. He was staring at the display in the sales window, lost in thought, while his mother was standing inside at the cash register, paying for the wallet that Ander had half-heartedly helped selecting.

He couldn't stop looking at a specific item that had caught his gaze.

_It would be perfect!_

Rubbing his hand through his curls, Ander tried to make a decision. He wasn't even sure if Omar would ever reach out again, if he would ever want to see him again, but somehow Ander knew that this wasn't a coincidence, that he had to get this for Omar. For the split of a second, Ander imagined himself, the wrapped present wedged under his arm, walking into the store of his parents, his appearance putting a beautiful smile on Omar's face.

_Stop dreaming, you idiot!_

_He would rip your head off!_

“Ander? Did you hear me? Let's go! We have all we need!”

His mother was standing behind him, a curious look on her face.

“Are you okay?”, she asked.

“Yeah, … yeah, I am! Would you mind going home alone? I still have something to do!”

She studied him for a second, before nodded. “Okay, but I want you to be home for diner!”

Ander nodded and watched his mother disappear in the streets, walking in the direction of their car. Turning back to the window of the small shop, Ander nodded to himself.

_He needs to have this!_

Before he could change his mind, he entered the store. If he wouldn't be able to give it to Omar himself, he would find a way. Even if he would have to send it by mail or to give it to Nadia, he would make sure that his present would reach Omar.

He was on is way home, his hands stuffed into his pockets and the paper bag from the leather store dangling on his arm, when his cellphone vibrated in his pocket, signalling the arrival of a new message.

Sopping in his tracks, he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

_Please, let it be him!_

But he knew that it could be anybody!

His mother asking him what was taking him so long. Guzmán, who was constantly sending around memes or Polo, who had been asking him over several times since the party, clearly unhappy that Ander had left him standing there without much of an explanation. It could even be a message sent to one of the groups he was in – their class, his tennis team.

Worrying his lower lip between his teeth, he started at his dark display for a second. The moment he swiped up, quickly entering his code, he felt his heart beat in his throat.

_It's him!_

**[Omar: Do you have time on Saturday?]**

**[Omar: My parents won't be home and I can close the store in the late afternoon!]**

**[Omar: I would really like to see you! If you still want to, I mean! And … I'm sorry!]**

Ander laughed, a feeling of pure happiness cursing through his veins. He felt warm, knowing that he would see Omar again, that he was willing to give them a chance and to accept his decision.

He didn't care for a second that his mother had ordered a table at one of the city's most expensive restaurants for 7 o'clock on Saturday, wanting to impress her husband with a sprawling diner and making sure that he wouldn't have a reason to treat her like shit on this special day.

The only thing that mattered was that he was going to see Omar again.

**[Ander: I can't wait!]**

**[Ander: And I'm really happy to hear from you!]**

_2 days …_

_and I will see him again!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 🙂
> 
> Any guesses on what Ander might have bought for Omar?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey 🙂
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the last chapter, I really enjoyed them! 
> 
> Time for a new chapter! This one is quite long, as a lot of things are happening, but I hope that you will enjoy it ❣️

Samuel was leaning against the counter in the store of Omar's parents, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyebrows raised slightly.

“Are you sure that you know what you are doing?”

Omar was rubbing his neck, letting his gaze wander over the ingredients that were lined up in front of him and that he had been pulling out of the shelves of the store just a few seconds ago. Biting his lower lip, he was completely lost in thoughts.

_What did I forget?_

_What's missing?_

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, thinking back to his childhood. To the many times his mother had been baking in the kitchen, a lowly smell filling the air, asking Omar to pass her the butter or the almonds, while Nadia was playing on the floor, her small fingers tracing figures in the flour that had fell to the ground.

_Pistachios, walnuts and almonds for the filling._

_Filo pastry, butter and cinnamon for the layers._

_Water, sugar and honey for the syrup._

“Of course!”, Omar said, snapping his fingers. “The lemon juice is missing!

A smile on his lips, he hurried past Samuel, who was shaking his head.

“So … what exactly do you need my help with?”, Samuel asked, obviously confused.

Omar grabbed a lemon out of the box, making sure that it was a bit soft to the touch, while looking at his friend, his eyes shining bright, unable to hide his excitement.

“It's easy! I just want you to stand there and call me as soon as a customer is coming in, okay?”

Samuel lifted his hands, not understanding Omar's strange behaviour.

“Yeah … sure, okay! And what exactly are _you_ going to do?”

After packing all the ingredients in one of their small baskets, Omar looked up.

“ _Baklava_!”

“ _Baklava_?”, Samuel asked.

“Yeah … _Baklava_! The traditional sweet from Palestine and the middle East, the one with the …!”

Interrupting his friend, Samuel stepped a bit closer, his head tilted to the side.

“I know what _baklava_ is, Omar! I guess, I would rather like to know _why_ you are making it. Didn't your mother have time before they left for the wedding? Are you going to take it with you, when you are joining them?”

Omar shrugged, avoiding Samuel's eyes. His friend had asked him if he would have time to hang out a bit with him in the evening, but he had said that he couldn't, that his parents were invited to a wedding. Instead he had invited his friend to pass by the store in the afternoon and help him out with something.

“Not exactly!”, he said.

“What does that mean?”

“Well … that I am not making the _baklava_ for the wedding, but for someone … something else!”

Samuel shook his head, trying to understand what Omar was saying.

“You are not even going to that wedding, are you?”, Samuel asked, sounding disappointed.

He hadn't seen Omar much these last days. Whenever he had asked if they could see each other, spending the little free time Omar had together, his friend had told him that he was busy at the store and that his father was still grieving the loss of Rachid Al Najjar, needing Omar's help even more than usual.

Feeling uneasy, Omar let his fingers trail over the rim of the basket. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, moving towards Samuel and leaning against the counter beside his friend.

“No, I won't be going to the wedding!”, he said.

Samuel watched Omar out of the corner of his eyes.

“So, where will you be going?”

Omar rubbed his forehead, knowing that Samuel wouldn't stop asking questions. He felt bad for the way he had been treating his friend these last days. First he had spent every free minute he had texting with Ander and seeing him whenever he had the possibility to get out of the store for a little while.

Samuel had tried to call him a few times and Omar had always been cutting him short, hearing the words his friend was saying, but with his mind focused on Ander, he hadn't been able to actually listen.

Then things between him and Ander had gone to hell. Hearing him talk about a future they just wouldn't have, imagining them doing all those beautiful things Ander wanted them to do, his mind had started screaming at him.

That he would be the reason that Ander was going to end up unhappy and with a broken heart.

That Ander deserved better and that he would never be good enough for him.

That he should better stop whatever was developing between them before it was too late.

After their last meeting in the park, Omar had been devastated. The things Ander had said to him, that he was acting in the exact same way than his father, had hurt him a lot. But another part of him had been incredibly grateful that Ander wasn't willing to give up on him and while it had taken him a few days to get around, he couldn't wait to see Ander again.

_What if I had managed to push him away for good?_

He hadn't known how to handle his emotions and maybe things would have been different if he would actually had someone to talk to. If he would have been able to open up to Samuel, to talk about the way he was feeling.

Samuel had always been a good listener, who was able to see the bigger picture and to give good advice. He might have told Omar to take a deep breath and helped him to see things from another perspective, before taking decisions in a rush.

_He's your best friend!_

_You've been lying to him!_

“Omar? Are you actually listening to what I am saying?”, Samuel said, ripping him out of his thoughts.

Omar looked at Samuel, seeing the confusion in his friend's eyes and he knew that he had to be honest, if he didn't want to lose him.

“Yeah … yeah, I am! Sorry!”, Omar said, clearing his throat.

“So, where will you be going?”

Repeating his question, Samuel was looking at him curiously.

“I'm going so see someone … someone important, if you know what I mean!”

Biting his lower lip, Omar turned toward Samuel, trying to figure out whether his friend understood what he was implying. Raising his eyebrows, a smile appearing on his lips, Samuel couldn't belief that his shy friend might actually be seeing someone. Omar had never been in a relationship as far as Samuel knew and even talking about girls wasn't easy for him.

“Omar, are you dating?”, Samuel asked, unable to keep his voice low.

“Shhh!”, Omar said. “Not so loud! Nadia is upstairs.”

“So, are you? Do I know her?”

Omar shrugged, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip, feeling a bit uneasy seeing the excitement in Samuel's eyes.

_Would he still be excited if I'd tell him the truth?_

_What if he pushes me away, telling me that I am twisted?_

With the way his father talked about homosexuality, he wasn't sure if anyone would accept him and the way he felt. He was afraid to lose the only friend he had and while he had been on the brink of telling Samuel only a few days before, gathering his courage to do so one more time was extremely difficult.

_You told Ander!_

But somehow that was different. With Ander being gay himself, Omar hadn't felt afraid of being judged, of being frowned upon, of being hurt.

“Com'on, I'm your best friend, I want to know everything!”

Samuel was looking at Omar with curious eyes, nudging him with his elbow.

“Okay, okay!”, Omar said, rubbing his neck nervously.

_You can do this!_

_He's your friend._

“It isn't a girl, Samuel! I'm … I'm gay!”

With his voice having been barely more than a whisper, Samuel was staring at him. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion and he looked at his friend with slightly parted lips, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

“What the fuck, Omar!”

Samuels voice was trembling, his cheeks flushed and he was throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. Omar gulped. Knowing Samuel inside out, having spent countless hours of their childhood and youth together, they had trusted each other blindly and Omar had thought that they would always stand together, no matter what.

And while he had been afraid of Samuel's reaction, a basic trust deep inside him had made him believe that everything would be fine, that him being gay wouldn't destroy their friendship, that Samuel would understand him and be happy for him.

Omar forced himself to speak, trying to control his voice.

“I'm sorry, Samuel! I thought … I hoped it wouldn't matter to you!”

Samuel was staring at him, shaking his head.

“I mean … there is this gay friend of your brother, no? What's his name? Valerio? It never seemed to be a problem to Nano or … to you! I didn't think …!”

“God, Omar! As if I'd had a problem with you being gay! You don't get it, do you?”

Closing his eyes for a second, Omar exhaled the breath he had been holding.

_He doesn't have a problem with me being gay!_

_Everything is going to be alright!_

Samuel had stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his lips pinched together.

“Why, Omar?”, he asked. “Why didn't you trust me? Why didn't you tell me before? I'm your best friend! I … I really don't get it! I mean … I had my doubts and it doesn't exactly come as a surprise, but I asked you once, remember? And you said no! Guess you were lying straight to my face! I can't believe it!”

Omar was kneading his hands nervously, knowing that Samuel was right. He should have told him that day, but somehow the question had come as such a surprise that Omar had been declining it straight away. He remembered that he had been frozen in fear for a second and that it had been incredibly difficult to force enough air into his lungs to answer at all.

“I'm sorry, Samuel! I don't know … I just couldn't at that moment! But … you are important to me and today I was honest with you! Com'on that has to mean something too, right?”

Samuel was watching his friend closely and he understood how difficult it must have been for him to say those words out aloud. Nodding, he leaned back against the counter, trying to make his voice sound less disappointed.

“So … why now, Omar? What has changed?”

Omar bit his lower lip, trying to hide a smile from his face.

“There wasn't a reason to tell you before, but now … there might be one, you know! The way that boy makes me feel … I don't know … I feel like I finally want to step out of the dark! I want to be who I am, to be with him!”

Samuel looked at his friend, seeing the way his eyes were shining.

“So, he's making you happy?”

Omar met Samuel's gaze and nodded.

“Yeah! Yeah … he is!”

Looking at Samuel, he knew that he hadn't been wrong. Samuel might be a bit disappointed that he hadn't told him before, but he was clearly excited for him and Omar knew that he could always count on him, no matter what.

“Okay! Well … what are you waiting for?”, Samuel said, pointing in the direction of basket with the ingredients.

A bright smile on his face, Omar hugged Samuel quickly, before he was hurrying in the direction of their living quarters.

“Oh, … and Omar?”

Samuel's voice had a funny edge to it and when Omar turned in his direction, he saw a glint of humour in his eyes.

“Make sure that there is a lot of _baklava_ for me to take home! I'm not going to waste my time here without expecting anything in return!”

Laughing, Omar disappeared from the store, his heart full of gratitude towards his best friend and tingling of excitement when thinking about the fact that he would be meeting Ander soon.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

At 5 o'clock, Omar had closed the store and told his sister that he would be gone for a while. About half an hour later, he was approaching the small lake close to his sister's school, where Ander had suggested them to meet.

**[Ander: Let's meet at the clearing in front of the abandoned tunnel near the lake of our school! It's deserted on Saturdays and we will have our peace and quiet there! What do you think?]**

Checking Ander's message one more time, he was making sure that he was on the right track. With each step he got closer to their meeting point, his heart was beating faster in his chest. He was so excited to see Ander again, but on the other hand he was incredibly nervous.

He knew that he had behaved like an idiot, telling Ander that it wasn't worth it to get to know each other instead of telling him how these messages had made him feel. And he could only hope that Ander was really still willing to get to know him, that he wouldn't realize that Omar was nothing but trouble.

The tin can in which he had packed the _baklava_ moving around in his backpack, he suddenly wasn't sure anymore if this wasn't a bit too much, unsure how Ander would feel about Omar baking something for him.

_What if he finds it stupid?_

_What if he's going to laugh?_

To convince himself that the _baklava_ wasn't a crazy idea and to keep his nerves from making him turn around all together, he scrolled back to the messages they had exchanged on their favourite sweets, a smile appearing on his lips.

**[Ander: I love sweets! The sweeter, the better! I was in Turkey with my parents! We ate something traditional from there! The best I ever had … something with nuts and honey dripping out of it! I forgot the name! It's insane, a complete sugar madness, it takes you straight to heaven! So, so good!]**

**[Omar: _Baklava,_ I guess?] **

**[Ander: Yeah! That's it! I would kill for that stuff, I swear!]**

Shaking his head, Omar couldn't stop himself from imagining Ander's reaction. If he had liked the terrible stuff that was served to tourists in Turkey under the pretext of being traditional _baklava_ , the homemade version would make him lose his mind.

The nuts for the filling weren't processed into barely more than powder as in the industrial version. No, they were ground by hand, crispy and more intense in their taste. The layers of dough were carefully coated with melted butter instead of frying fat from a spray bottle and the syrup was heated while being stirred constantly allowing the honey to dissolve evenly and to unfold its whole flavour. Anyone who had ever eaten handmade _baklava_ never wanted to hear from the industrial version again, the memory of the traditional pastries' taste too magical to ever be forgotten.

Pocketing his cellphone, Omar walked past the lake and followed a small path leading into a little forest. Within a few minutes in which his heart started beating even faster, he stepped onto the clearing, seeing Ander sitting on a blanket, his upper body leaning against the trunk of a big tree.

The moment he lay his eyes on Omar, a wide smile appeared on his face and it was obvious how excited he had been to see him again. Knowing that he wasn't alone with his feelings, Omar approached Ander slowly.

“Hey!”, he said.

It was a beautiful Indian summer day, the trees were shining in a multitude of different colours and while they had already lost their first leaves, their branches were still thick. Warm rays of sun fell on Ander’s face, making him squint slightly, while he looked at Omar expectantly.

_He's so beautiful!_

Omar couldn't stop himself from looking straight into Ander's eyes.

“Come sit down with me!”, Ander said, sliding to the side to make room for Omar on the blanket.

With the way their last meeting had gone, Omar was a bit worried that there would be a weird tension between them, but Ander seemed nothing but forthcoming, nothing but truly happy to see him. And so he forced himself to swallow his nervousness and let himself fall on the floor next to Ander.

“How are you?”, he asked, while trying to find a comfortable position.

“Good!”, Ander said. “Seeing you, us being here, that's all I kept thinking about these last two days!”

Omar smiled, feeling himself blush slightly. Being in Ander's presence made it difficult for him to think. And while he felt the palms of his hands getting sweaty, he kept himself busy with putting his backpack away and straightening his shoelaces.

“Beer?”, Ander asked, leaning over Omar's body in order to grab his own backpack.

With Ander being so close to him, Omar couldn't stop himself from inhaling deeply, enjoying the unique smell that was Ander's, the one he hadn't gotten from his nose since Ander had brought him home on his bike after their meeting on the bridge.

Keeping himself from reaching out, he bit his lower lip and turned his head away slightly. He felt Ander watching him closely, which only made him more aware of how hot his cheeks were and of how quickly he was breathing.

“Oh, ehm ... It's because of the beer, right?”, Ander asked, trying to make sense of his reaction. “I also brought coke, no problem!”

Omar looked at him, unable to follow his line of thoughts, but then he understood and quickly shook his head.

“No! No ... it's fine! I'm taking a beer!”, he said.

“Sure?”

“Yeah, just because it's forbidden doesn't mean that I won't do it!”

Opening two beer bottles, Ander watched Omar closely with a smile on his face, before handing one to him. He took a long swing from the cold drink, before shifting a bit forward and lying down on the blanket, crossing his hands behind his head.

“So, how comes that you could close the store so much earlier today?”, he asked, watching Omar out of the corner of his eye.

Trying to focus on what Ander was saying instead of on his nerves, Omar took a quick sip from his bottle, always feeling that the taste of beer was a bit too bitter, leaving behind a heavy and earthy taste on his tongue. But as he didn't drink alcohol often, he tried to savour it nevertheless.

“My parents are invited to a wedding, they left early and will be back late!”, he said.

Ander smiled, sensing that Omar was feeling nervous. Trying to put him at ease, he looked up into the sky and started telling him about the last wedding he had been to, the one where everything that could go wrong had actually gone wrong. The one where the bride had absolutely wanted to take a group picture on the old wooden dock, ending in a complete disaster with half of the wedding guests falling into dirty, smelly water when the dock had collapsed under their weight.

Omar laughed, listening to Ander imitating the voice of the bride, high-pitched and completely overcome with hysteria, angry about her destroyed wedding dress and screaming at the people that preferred to leave the party instead of freezing in their wet clothes for her sake. Looking down at Ander for a moment, Omar thought about how it would feel to lean down and to capture his full lips in a kiss, but instead of giving in to the temptation of Ander's mouth, he lay down beside him on the blanket, letting the sun shine into his face, while listening to Ander's stories.

While he didn't say much himself, but rather listened to the sound of Ander's voice, which was luring him in, it didn't take long before he felt completely comfortable in Ander's presence. Lying beside each other on the blanket, hearing their respective breathing and feeling their body heath, they lapsed into a relaxed conversation, almost as if they were lying in their respective rooms and texting each other late into the night.

_This is perfect!_

_Please, never let this moment end!_

Omar felt completely at ease and finished his second bottle of beer, when Ander rolled onto his stomach. With his head slightly tiled, he watched Omar intently. Feeling Ander's gaze on his face, Omar looked up at him and suddenly they were staring into each others eyes. Feeling his heart beat accelerate in his chest, Omar licked his lips, remembering how Ander had kissed him on the bridge.

“You are beautiful, Omar!”

A small laugh escaping from his lips, Omar tried to shrug Ander's compliment off, not knowing how to handle it, how to behave in such a situation. Ander however just kept looking at him, letting his fingers wander over Omar's arms, up and down, his nails brushing the fine hair there, his eyes fixed on Omar's face. With Ander moving closer, Omar could feel his body heath seep through his clothes, making him feel warmer and warmer as he wished Ander would lean in and kiss him, wildly and full of passion and this time, this time Omar wouldn't pull back.

_Kiss me!_

_Taste me!_

_Please!_

Letting his hand move into Omar's neck, Ander was mesmerized by the hint of desire he could see in the other boy's eyes. Not sure if he would be pushed away again, he let his thumb trail over Omar's bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his fingertip. Leaning his head back slightly, Omar opened his mouth, the tip of his tongue darting out, seeking Ander's thumb.

Ander moaned softly, feeling a shiver running down his spine at this sensual touch. He saw Omar close his eyes and he was about to lean in, to seek Omar's lips with his own, when the ringtone of his cellphone cut through the silence, making Omar's eyes fly open and pull away slightly.

Cursing angrily, knowing that the spell they had been under was broken, Ander scrambled to his knees, grabbing his backpack. While Omar was trying to catch his breath, Ander declined his mother's call, barely taking note of the fact that it was already way after 6 o'clock and that his mother was surely starting to wonder where he was.

“Everything okay?”, Omar asked, clearly out of breath, but trying to control his voice.

Ander nodded, switching his cellphone into vibration mode before putting it in the back pocket of his jeans, not wanting them to be interrupted again. Omar was leaning on his elbows, his cheeks flushed and an unreadable expression on his face. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he watched Ander, who was sitting down beside him, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Are you okay?”, he asked, returning Omar's question. “Was this too much?”

Omar shook his head, sitting up entirely, while rubbing the palms of his hands against each other.

“I'm sorry, Ander!”, he said, his voice soft. “For behaving like an idiot the last time we saw each other!”

“Don't worry, okay? Let's not talk about it, let's just enjoy this moment together!”

But Omar shook his head, not wanting to take the easy way out that Ander was offering, knowing that he would have to learn to talk about his feelings when he wanted this to work. He needed to understand that from now on whatever he did had an impact on Ander.

“No, just let me try to explain! It's important to me!”

Biting his lower lip, Ander nodded, leaning back against the tree and watching Omar closely, who was trying to find the right words.

“I was afraid, I guess!”, Omar said, forcing himself to look into Ander's direction instead of letting his gaze wander over the trees surrounding them.

While searching for the right words, Ander didn't interrupt Omar. He just waited, giving him the room and the time he needed to express his feelings.

“Afraid to hurt you! To not be good enough for you! To make you unhappy! But maybe I was also a bit afraid for myself, that you might realize that I'm not worth the trouble and maybe I wanted to protect myself a bit instead of ending up hurting.”

Omar took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't used to speak about the way he felt and it made him feel slightly uneasy to show so much of himself to someone else, to someone that felt like a soulmate, but that was actually still so much of a stranger in many points.

“I just want you to know that I would love to do all those things with you and that it is breaking my heart knowing I can't give them to you! But I will try my best to enjoy whatever we can have right now and maybe one day, things will be different! And even if we don't know what tomorrow brings, I want to live today and make the best out of each moment we can have together!”

The emotions on Ander's face were obvious to Omar and seeing how much his words got to Ander, he knew that he had done the right thing. Returning Ander's smile, he shifted a bit closer, taking Ander's hand in his own, letting his fingers draw patterns on the back of it.

“And please, just remind me of this whenever I am about to lose my mind again, okay?”

“Okay!”

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

While watching Omar sitting on the blanket, the sun slowly setting and the trees casting shadows on his face, making his eyes shine beautifully, Ander couldn't believe how well things had gone so far. He felt so close to Omar and he had never expected the atmosphere between them to be so intimate, so captivating.

And while he regretted that his mother's phone call had avoided a kiss between them to happen, he was happy to hear Omar's explanation of his reaction to his messages and he was sure that Omar might not have opened up in the same way, if they hadn't been ripped out of the moment.

He cleared his throat and slowly pulled his hand away from Omar's, reaching for his backpack.

“Listen, Omar! I've got something for you!”, Ander said.

Omar bit his lower lip, a shy smile appearing on his lips.

“I've got something for you as well!”

Ander laughed.

“Okay, so let's start with the gift I have for you, okay?”

Omar was watching him closely and the moment Ander pulled the wrapped gift out of his backpack, a slight flush appeared on his cheeks. Birthdays were not celebrated in their religion and his father had always made it clear that gifts were something he didn't want to see in their home. They had each other and the love of Allah and that was enough. They didn't have to indulge in the commercial expressions of love and gratitude that was displayed in other families and Omar was thus not used at all to get real gifts.

“Here, this is for you!”, Ander said.

He handed the present to Omar, his fingers trembling slightly and he couldn't wait to see Omar's reaction, the glow in his eyes he was hoping for.

“Should I open it?”, Omar asked, his voice a bit unsteady.

Ander nodded, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, he was watching how Omar turned the present carefully around in his hands, looking for a place to breach the colourful paper without destroying it entirely.

“I hope you'll like it!”, Ander said, trying to calm his nerves.

Omar looked up at him, a small smile on his lips, before folding the paper away. The moment his eyes landed on the beautiful dark leather, he opened his mouth slightly and let his fingers trail over the expensive material. A frown on his face, he turned the document holder around, taking in the beautiful details. He touched the small rivets on the sides and stared in amazement at the small number lock, which allowed the folder to be securely closed with a combination of digits of his choice.

“Ander, I ... this is beautiful! I really don't know if I can accept this!”

Omar looked at Ander, his eyes huge, while his fingers were still trailing over the soft material. Ander smiled, his heart swelling with happiness, seeing how touched Omar was by his present.

“I've seen it and knew that it was made for you!”, he said.

“But ...!”

“No buts! It's perfect for your drawings! You can file them away securely! No risks anymore of strangers throwing them around in your parents' store!”

Omar laughed, the full sound escaping his chest, sending a shiver down Ander's spine.

“Thank you! This means a lot, really! I've never gotten something like this!”

Ander was leaning back against the tree, watching how Omar was packing the folder away securely, a look of awe evident on his face, but suddenly a deep frown appeared on his forehead and he rubbed his palms against his jeans uneasily.

“What I've got for you, Ander ... it's so ridiculous in comparison!”, he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Oh com'on, Omar!”, Ander said, shaking his head. “I am sure it's great! And I actually don't expect anything in return. I got this, because I wanted to see you happy, that's it! No strings attached!”

Rubbing his neck nervously, Omar reached into his backpack and pulled out a tin box, colourful oriental patterns covering the lid. He handed it to Ander with a shy look in his eyes and when their fingers touched for the split of a second, Ander felt how cold they were. Omar was obviously very nervous, while Ander wasn't able to hide his curiosity any longer.

The tip of his tongue was sticking out between his teeth as he set the box in his lap and opened the lid with quick movements. When the scent of honey and nuts hit him and his gaze fell on the _baklava_ , the layers of dough shining in a perfect golden brown, a shimmer of syrup on the surface, he felt his mouth watering.

“Oh my god, I can't believe this!”, Ander said.

Feeling Omar's gaze on his skin, the wonderful smell of the pastry in front of him prominent in his nose, Ander couldn't wait a second longer and greedily reached for a piece of _baklava_ and stuffed it into his mouth. Feeling the taste explode on his tongue, he leaned his head back, a soft moan escaping his mouth.

He heard Omar laughing softly, clearly enjoying the impact his gift had on Ander.

Chewing with relish, Ander savoured every second of this delight as he held the can in Omar's direction, offering him a piece of this delicacy. Ander licked his lips and was about to move his hand into his hair, wanting to push his curls out of his eyes, when he felt Omar's hand close around his wrist.

“Don't! Your fingers are full of honey!”, Omar said.

He was watching Ander with dark eyes, the way he had licked his lips and moaned softly while devouring the _baklava_ had clearly gotten to him. His cheeks were flushed, his breath was coming in short gasps and he was licking his bottom lip, while staring straight into Ander's eyes, his fingers still strongly wrapped around Ander's wrist.

Feeling his heart beating quickly in his chest, Ander watched Omar moving into his direction, leaning closer to him, his mouth approaching his fingers and before he could make sense of what was happening, Omar sucked one of them into his mouth, letting his tongue trail over it, slowly licking up the sweet honey sticking to his skin.

_Oh my God!_

_I_ _s this really happening?_

Ander was fisting his other hand into the blanket, watching his finger disappear between Omar's lips, trying to keep his body from moving, afraid to interrupt this moment and to make Omar realize what he was doing. Biting his lower lip, he felt a tingle in his crotch and closing his eyes for a short second, he couldn't stop himself from imagining Omar going down on him, sucking his dick instead of his finger.

He couldn't stop the soft moan that was tumbling from his lips and when his eyes flew open, he was staring right at Omar, who was looking up at him. His eyes were dark with desire and while the movement of his tongue around Ander's finger got slower, he wasn't about to pull back entirely. Instead, he sucked a second finger into his mouth, lettinghis lips tease Ander's skin, while his tongue was moving slowly over the sensitive spots between his digits.

“Omar, this feels so good!”, Ander whispered, his voice hoarse.

Shifting slightly, he tried to ease the pressure in his pants, the firm fabric of his jeans rubbing the most sensitive spot of his body uncomfortably. Feeling Omar's gaze on his skin, goose bumps appearing on his arms, he couldn't stop himself from speaking.

“I want to kiss you so badly!”

Omar moved away from Ander, letting his moist lips slide over Ander's fingertips one last time, a feverish glow in his eyes as he nodded. But while biting his lower lip and letting his eyes wander around him quickly, Ander understood that Omar could barely believe what he had just found the courage to initiate and that he felt slightly exposed in the middle of the clearance, worried that someone might see them.

“Come with me!”, Ander said, reaching for Omar's hand.

Feeling that Omar's hands were slightly sweaty, Ander pulled him up and together they moved towards the entrance of the old tunnel, that was hidden from sight and would give them even more privacy.

_He's so damn sexy!_

_God, I can't wait any longer!_

Pressing Omar with his back against the stone wall of the tunnel, Ander licked his lips before leaning in and closing the gap between them. His hands were finding Omar's neck, holding him tight, while slightly tilting his head, moving his mouth against Omar's, enjoying the sensation cursing through his body. Omar's hands were holding Ander's wrists, but instead of making him slow down, Omar pulled him closer, gasping softly, a warm feeling in his chest.

After a bit more than two bottles of beer, he certainly wasn't drunk, but he felt slightly fuzzy and he was able to push all potential insecurities away and to enjoy the feeling of Ander's full lips moving against his own. With Ander's tongue pressing against his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth, Omar closed his eyes, leaning his weight against the cold stone wall. He felt the heat in his cheeks and parted his lips slightly, letting Ander take control of the situation, concentrating fully on the overwhelming desire running through his veins.

Ander moaned softly, feeling Omar's lips part below his own and he didn't hesitate to push his tongue inside of his warm mouth. He felt his legs trembling slightly as his tongue touched Omar's, the taste of nuts and honey overwhelming his senses and when he felt how Omar slowly started to return his kiss, it was like everything around him was fading, like nothing counted apart from that moment and the pleasure he was feeling.

He groaned lightly into the warmth of Omar's mouth before he broke away from him and briefly looked into his eyes, finding them dark with lust. Smiling, he let his lips wander down over the sensitive skin of Omar's neck, leaving behind a trail of open-mouthed kisses.

“You taste so good!”, he said, smiling when he saw Omar's cheeks turn even reder than they already were.

Overwhelmed by his own courage, Omar started moving his hands down Ander's back before kneading his firm ass, gasping softly, when he felt Ander smile against the skin of his neck.

“Ander?”, he said, his voice breaking.

“Huh?”

“You cellphone! It ... it keeps vibrating! What if it's important?”, Omar said, having difficulty to form a clear thought.

Sighing Ander let go of him for a second and Omar immediately regretted that Ander broke away from him, hating the feeling of cold air on his overheated skin, longing for those strong arms that were holding him just a second ago.

As fast as he could, Ander switched off his cellphone and smiled at Omar, leaning into him again, seeking out his mouth for another wet kiss, rubbing himself against the bulge in Omar's pants, as he listened to his rapid breathing and felt his chest rise and fall rapidly under his hands.

He felt that the angle wasn't quite right, that he could either give himself or Omar the perfect friction and he quickly let his hands slide to the back of Omar's thighs.

“Hold on and put your hands around my neck!”, he said.

It took a few seconds before Omar was able to react, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated with desire. But then he did what Ander asked and it was easy for him to lift Omar's legs up and wrap them around his hips, aligning their groins perfectly. Seeking out Omar's eyes, he saw the other boy biting his lower lip, the pressure of his teeth so strong that they left white marks in the swollen flesh.

“Too much?”, he asked, hoping that he was reading Omar's body correctly and that he enjoyed this just as much as he did.

With his hands still tightly wrapped around Ander's neck, Omar shook his head, panting slightly as he sought Ander's lips and sealed them with his own.

“Move your hips!”, Ander said, his voice husky.

Omar closed his eyes for a second, the feeling of Ander taking control so incredibly intense and stimulating that he needed a moment before he was able to move, his cock so hard that he hardly dared to rub against Ander out of fear to come faster than he wanted, afraid to make a fool out of himself. While Omar started to move slowly, Ander put his hands on his hips, helping him find the right rhythm.

He threw his head back as an intense wave of lust shot through his veins, the feeling of Omar's cock rubbing so perfectly against his own making his knees tremble. The pressure just right, the feeling so intense that it wouldn't take him long to come. Searching Omar's gaze, seeing how he was biting his lower lip in an effort to keep himself from moaning out aloud, Ander shuddered.

“Let me hear you, Omar! Let me hear what this does to you!”

He felt a slight tremor run through Omar's body as he pressed his head against Ander's shoulder. He released one hand from Omar's hip, pushed it under his shirt, running his fingers over the hair below his navel before moving further up and rubbing Omar's hard nipple between his fingertips, causing him to moan into his ear, while he continued to rub against him with all his strength, giving Omar no chance to catch his breath.

“I think I'm coming!”, Omar gasped, his voice shaky and his breath laboured.

Ander leaned his head back, slowing his movement for just a second, searching for Omar's gaze.

“Let me touch you!”, he said.

He was trying to read Omar's face, while he pressed him with his weight against the wall and moved his fingers to his front, wrestling the button of his jeans open with shaky movements. Seeing nothing but desire in Omar's dark eyes, he pushed his hand inside of Omar's boxer, freeing his hard cock and letting his thumb trail over the precum that was gathered at the tip.

While Omar was clutching his neck, Ander couldn't stop himself from looking down at Omar's hard cock, his hand wrapped around his length in a steady grip, moving up and down in the perfect rhythm to bring him off. The sensitive skin there a little darker than the rest, its tip swollen and a little lighter, Omar was circumcised and Ander loved how he could press his thumb firmly against the sensitive area just below the mushroom-like head, while Omar moaned loudly and pushed his cock forward frantically, making sure that Ander kept moving his hand, while he moaned in his ear and let his tongue slide over the sensitive shell.

“Fuck, Omar! You look so hot like this!”, Ander said.

Imagining how it would feel to suck Omar's beautiful cock into his mouth, Ander moved his hand a tiny bit faster, feeling Omar's legs contract around his hips, his whole body growing stiff and he quickly pushed Omar's shirt out of the way, seconds before Omar came, his voice stuck in his throat as warm cum poured over Ander's fingers. While they were both trying to catch their breath, Ander found an old paper napkin in his pants, cleaned his fingers and slowly let Omar slide off his hips, looking into his shining eyes and getting lost in them.

_This was incredible!_

_We are made for each other!_

Omar tried to stand firmly on his feet again, still unable to believe what he had just done, how alive he had felt. He shyly looked up at Ander, who was smiling at him, his eyes bright, before motioning into the direction of his groin.

“Should I ...?”

Unable to finish his question, Omar liked his lips, looking into Ander's questioning eyes.

“I mean ... don't you want to come too?”, Omar asked, his voice soft and insecure.

Ander laughed before he pulled his lower lip between his teeth and looked at Omar intensely, finding it incredibly sexy how Omar was staring at him with red cheeks and slightly parted lips.

“I came!”, Ander said, laughing softly when he saw the confused look on Omar's face.

“Really?”

“Yeah ... the way you moved in my lap, hearing you moan like that, seeing what this did to you! It made me cum straight in my pants!”

Omar shook his head, trying to avoid his cheeks from flushing, slightly embarrassed that he had been so lost in his own feelings, unable to follow what was happening around him. Ander licked his lips and leaned his body against Omar's once again, kissing him gently, while he took hold of his hand and slowly led it to his crotch, guiding it into his shorts, letting Omar feel the traces of his lust.

Omar shook slightly, while he pulled his hand out of Ander's pants. When his gaze fell on his glistering fingertips, it was the second time that day, that he felt his head turn off. It were his feelings, his lust and his passion that took control of him and before he could question himself, he leaned forward and licked Ander's cum from his fingers, moaning softly at the intense taste, while staring straight into Ander's eyes, who was resting his hand against the wall of the tunnel, barely believing what Omar was doing.

“Kiss me!”, Omar whispered.

And Ander couldn't do anything else than comply with Omar's request, completely overwhelmed by the way Omar behaved, how sensual he could be when he let his heart take control over his mind.

Wishing that this would just be the beginning of something great, something unique!

Something so valuable and important that there would never be anything or anybody else that could hold up with what they felt for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! 🙂
> 
> I'd be very happy to hear your thoughts on this chapter and on what you think might happen next! 
> 
> Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 🙂
> 
> It's Saturday and time for another chapter! 
> 
> As I wrote in the beginning of this story, things won't be easy and this chapter is a little darker. 
> 
> This one has been difficult to write and might be a bit tough to read as well. 
> 
> I would therefore like to add the following additional warnings/tags for this chapter: **strict religious beliefs, homophobia and crude language**. 
> 
> I hope that you will enjoy it neverthelss ❣️

His hands stuffed into his pockets and a smile on his face, Omar was walking through the dark streets. Thinking back to the amazing time he had spent with Ander, he still felt slightly light-headed, unable to believe what had happened between them.

Since they had first met on the bridge, he had been imagining how it would feel like to kiss Ander without pulling back, to really give into the desire, instead of being insecure and afraid. And while he had promised himself to let his emotions lead him this time, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him that he was sick, he was surprise by how far they had actually gone.

Closing his eyes, Omar indulged in the feeling of how Ander had taken control of the situation, how he had picked him up, pressed him against the wall and guided his movements, while telling him exactly what he wanted him to do. Encouraging him to move his hips, to no longer hold back his moans, to let go and to enjoy the moment.

_Those strong arms around my body._

_The way he devoured my mouth._

_He's been turning me upside down!_

With his strong presence, Ander had been able to break all restraints in him and Omar had been giving himself over completely, lost in the moment, forgetting all his inhibitions. With his first sexual experience turning into such an unforgettable moment, Omar couldn't imagine how it would feel like to take things further, to fully explore each other's bodies, to become one with each other.

Approaching the store, he was relieved to see that none of the lights were switched on apart from a small glow that came out of the outermost window on the first floor, indicating that Nadia was probably sitting at her desk, studying for school even though it was Saturday evening, doing everything to make her dream of going to university after graduation come true.

For the split of a second, Omar imagined how it would feel like to go into Nadia's room, to let himself fall on her bed, meet her curious gaze and tell her all about the amazing date he just had.

It almost tore his heart that he would probably never be able to share his happiness with his sister, his family, but while this was difficult to accept, he dreamed of finding a family in Ander, who might be able to love him as he was, regardless of all his weaknesses and flaws, who would always stand by his side.

_Love!_

_Such a big word!_

Omar didn't know if love was actually describing what he felt. He was too inexperienced, having nothing to compare his intense feelings for Ander to, but somehow he was sure, that what he felt was something special, something unique that didn't happen often and while he didn't dare to call it love yet, he certainly knew that he was falling for Ander, hard and fast.

He slowly climbed the stairs, quickly looked into Nadia's room and smiled when he saw her sitting at her desk as expected, her head bent over a book, visibly absorbed. He disappeared silently into his own room, not willing to meet his sister before he had showered and cleared his head, knowing that she would be curious, wanting to know where he had been.

Closing the door to his room behind him, he dropped his backpack on the floor and quickly went through his drawers, looking for fresh clothes, wanting to have showered and started the washing machine before his parents came home.

He was afraid that his father would somehow smell the sin on his skin, that his mother with her eagle eye would catch sight of the small stains of cum that had landed on his shirt despite the fact that Ander had tried to moved it out of the way in time. Not to talk about the spots in his underwear, as he had been leaking precum since the second he had sucked Ander's finger into his mouth.

With a towel around his waist, he stuffed his clothes into the washing machine and added a bit of powder, before disappearing into the bathroom. Letting the towel slide from his hips, he reached into the shower stall and started the water, throwing a quick look into the mirror.

Biting his lower lip, he let his hands trail over his torso. He was of a rather slim build, his collarbone visible and while his upper arms were slightly muscular, he looked very different from Ander, whose strong arms and shaped torso Omar had been able to felt against his own and he couldn't stop himself from wondering if Ander had enjoyed what his hands had felt under his shirt or whether he found him too thin, too undefined.

As he stepped into the shower, the warm water running over his chest, he stared down at his cock, which was inevitably hardening a little at the thought of Ander and what they had shared. And he tried to imagine what he had looked like from Ander's perspective, heat rising in his cheeks. Not having been self-conscious about his body before, the desire to please Ander, to look good for him was suddenly overwhelming.

Taking the soap, he foamed it up between his palms and began to wash himself, letting his hands slide gently over his body, teasing his nipples and before he could stop himself, he closed his hand around his length, rubbing his hard cock slightly, his head leaned back enjoying the water that was running over his face.

But before he got lost in his desire, he let go of himself, turned the water cold and pressed his hands against the tiles of the shower, waiting for his cock to go limp, the idea of waiting for Ander to touch him there again prominent on his mind, making him shudder.

He dried his body before putting on his fresh clothes, brushed his teeth quickly, and darted back to his room. With a smile on his face, he took the document holder that Ander had given him out of his backpack, shaking his head slightly.

_It's beautiful!_

_He must have spent a fortune._

_Just to see me happy._

His fingers were tracing patterns on the soft material and he stared at the gift in his hands for a second, before dropping to his knees and pulling his hidden drawings from below his mattress. Taking them out of the paper folder they were hidden in, he went through his drawings and arranged them into three piles. One for the landscapes, one for the nudes and one for the quick sketches of Ander that he had been working on these last days.

_They aren't doing him justice._

_He's way more handsome in reality._

Moving his fingers over the pencil lines, he bit his lower lip, understanding that it were the eyebrows and the shape of Ander's lips that he wasn't perfectly happy with yet. The eyebrows were standing a bit too close together and they should be getting slightly thinner at the outer edge. And he would have to work on the curve of the lower lip, making it a little fuller, its contours a little softer.

Storing the drawings into the different departments that were inside of the document holder, Omar took a quick picture with his cellphone, before carefully setting the code that would secure his secret. After he had safely hidden the folder under his mattress, he lay back on his bed, typing a message for Ander and attaching the picture to it.

**[Omar: Thank you! For today and for the gift! Look, everything fits perfectly inside!]**

Ander only took a few seconds to reply and Omar smiled when he read his message.

**[Ander: I'm very happy that you liked it! And today was amazing! God, I can't wait to see you again! To feel you again! I guess in the meantime, I will have to go with the baklava!]**

Omar opened the attached picture and had to laugh, seeing that the box was nearly empty and he was sure that Ander would end up with the worst stomach ache of his life, if he kept being that greedy. But deep inside, Omar was incredibly happy that Ander had enjoyed his gift so much and that he had been able to share something from his country with him.

_I might not be able to take you to Palestine!_

_But I can bring pieces of it to you!_

A smile on his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, he lay down in his bed and pulled his blanket over his body, getting lost in thought.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Before putting his cellphone back in his pocket, Ander was casting a last look on the picture Omar had sent him. Seeing that he had put his drawings into the document holder straight away confirmed Ander's impression that Omar had really enjoyed his present.

Meeting Omar today, while knowing that it would cause trouble at home, had definitely been the right decision. He had the feeling that the time they had spent together and the intimacy they had shared had brought them closer, a still fragile, but honest bond forming between them.

Approaching home, he exhaled loudly, rubbing his hand through his curls nervously. He bit his lower lip, wondering if he should listen to his mother's messages on his voice mail, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do it, not wanting to hear the disappointment in her voice.

He hated upsetting his mother, but no matter how hard he tried, it was getting more and more difficult for him to endure his father each day. The desire to tell him what he thought of him was getting overwhelming, but he forced himself to keep silent, knowing that a confrontation with his father would only make the situation worse for his mother.

In front of the house, he leaned his back against a tree and slid a cigarette between his lips, trying to delay the inevitable. 10 missed calls, 2 messages on his voice mail and at least as many unopened text messages. He knew that the confrontation was going to suck, that it might get ugly.

_Please, just let them sit happily in the restaurant._

_Delighted to spend some time together._

_Without their son, who is nothing but a failure!_

A failure, a disappointment. He knew that he wasn't anything else in his father's eyes. There had been a time in his childhood where Ander had tried everything to please him, to get his attention. He had wanted to be just like him, starting to play tennis, hoping it would somehow bring them closer together.

The exact opposite had been the case. The older he got, the more distant their relationship became. His father had always been a bad tempered man, unfriendly to his wife most of the time, giving her the feeling that she wasn't good enough for him, that she somehow had to make up for something, that she wasn't able to give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

But while Ander knew that his father loved her, even if his way of showing it was twisted and painful, he himself had never felt loved. He didn't understand why, had tried everything to conquer his father's approval and praise, but nothing he did was able to change their relationship.

Whenever his father looked at him, he felt his displeasure and since he had decided to no longer put up with his behaviour, since he had given up fighting for his love, he sometimes felt that there was a hint of hate in his father's eyes, when he met his gaze. He knew that his father was sometimes staring at him when he felt unobserved, his lips quivering slightly and the corner of his mouth lifting in distaste, giving his face an ugly expression.

_Whatever!_

_Let's do this!_

He drew on his cigarette one last time and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs before tossing the cigarette on the ground. He pulled his house key from his backpack and slowly walked to the door.

Entering the dark hallway without a noise, he listened into the silence. Closing the front door behind himself, he shortly leaned against the wood, letting go of the breath he had been holding. For a split second, he thought that his parents had indeed gone to the restaurant, celebrating his father's birthday, not caring that he hadn't shown up.

He slowly moved through the front hall, reaching the door of the living room, when all of a sudden the light was turned on and his father appeared in the door, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. His mother was sitting on the couch, her eyes red. It was obvious that she had been crying, the shards of a broken vase, her favourite one, a clear indication of their fight.

_Fuck!_

Closing his eyes, Ander tried to keep the fear that was bubbling up in his stomach at bay, but his father's expression revealed how angry he was. It took him nothing but two quick steps to reach Ander, grabbing him by his shoulder and pulling him into the living room, his finger pointed at him and his lip trembling in rage.

“Antonio, calm down! Please!”, Azucena said, avoiding to look at Ander.

Shrugging his shoulders, Ander moved out of his father's grip, taking in the living room with his eyes. His father had clearly been drinking, empty beer bottles stood on the table and he could smell the alcohol on his breath. His eyes were searching for his mother, always afraid that his father might go one step further, hurting her with more than just words. But apart from her red eyes she looked okay and Ander tried to calm his breathing.

“Well, well! Looks like nothing happened to your darling boy! He's save and sound, isn't he?”, his father said, his voice dripping with distaste.

“Where have you been, Ander? Why haven't you been answering my messages? I was sick with worry, do you get that? Afraid that something had happened to you, that you were lying somewhere, unable to use your cellphone?”, his mother said.

Ander swallowed hard, guilt cursing through his veins.

_You should have thought about that._

_You should have told her that you are okay._

“I'm sorry, mom!”

“Is that all you have to say, huh?”, his father jumped in, pointing his finger angrily in Ander's direction.

Biting his lower lip, staring onto the ground, Ander stubbornly refused to give his father any reaction.

“You know what, Ander? You are nothing but a grudging piece of shit! You couldn't stand that your mother's attention would for once not revolve around you, huh? And that's why you had to run away, to ignore your mother's messages! You are worthless, nothing but a trouble maker, constantly looking for attention! You make use of every opportunity to destroy this family!”

He had heard it all before, in this form or another, and while he wished that his father's heartless words would bounce off his hard shell, they penetrated his flesh, hurting him and he barely managed not to flinch.

_Swallow it down!_

_Don't let it get to you!_

_Just shut up!_

But he couldn't, all the pent up anger and frustration were bubbling out of him.

“What family are you talking about, huh? The one that doesn't exist? Because that's the truth, we aren't a family, families don't treat each other that way, don't you think? And that's why I didn't show up tonight! I just couldn't stand the thought of pretending to be a happy family for your sake, you showing us off in a restaurant, pretending to be the perfect husband and father! And if you really want to know where I was ... well, I spend my time with someone who actually matters to me!”

His father's face screw up in anger, an ugly line appearing around his mouth and while Ander expected that he would explode and yell at him, he only tilted his head, raised his eyebrows and looked at his mother, a determined expression on his face.

“He wants to stop pretending, Azucena! Did you hear him?”

Ander looked at his mother, who seemed to be frozen in place, unable to move.

“So, what do you think, huh? Maybe he's right! Maybe we should stop pretending all together and end this farce!”, his father said, his voice ice cold.

Azucena forced herself to look at her husband, fear all over her face and she was raising her hands, trying to somehow stop whatever was about to unfold, knowing that it would change her life, all their lives forever.

“Don't, Antonio! Not like this! Please!”, she whispered.

Ander felt his heart beating too fast in his chest and he had trouble breathing. With the despair and fear in his mother's eyes and the disgust on his father's face, he knew that whatever his father was about to say would be painful. But it didn't matter, he needed to know.

“I want to know what he has to say!”, he said, his hands curled into fists and his breath coming in short gasps.

An ugly smile played on his father's lips as he alternately stared at his wife and son. His mother raised her eyes one last time, her pleading gaze fixed on her husband, hoping she could stop him, but she knew that her effort was in vain, nothing could stop him anymore. She clenched her lips and stared at the carpet in front of hers feet, nothing in her attitude reflecting the strong woman she was at school.

“So, Ander! Let me tell you the reason why we aren't a happy family! It's pretty simple! It's your existence, which reminds me every single day that your mother betrayed me, humiliated me, trampled on my feelings.”

Ander drew his eyebrows together, confusion evident on his face as he sought his mother's gaze, who refused to look at him.

“What ... what does he mean?”, he said with a husky voice.

His father laughed mockingly, obviously revealing in the uncertainty and fear in Ander's eyes.

“What that means? It means that you are nothing but the unwanted result of a heated bathroom fuck, while your mother was out of control and had nothing but the intention to hurt me!”

_Unwanted ..._

_Bathroom fuck ..._

The painful words echoed in Ander's head, and while he was unable to really understand what was being said, the words hit him like a blow nevertheless and he stumbled backwards, gripping the door frame with sweaty hands.

“Mom?”, Ander said, hating himself for the pain that was so prominent in his broken voice.

His mother forced herself to look at him, swallowed hard, while shaking her head slightly, trying to make him understand that it wasn't like that, that these words weren't the ugly truth.

“Ander, please! That's not how it was!”, she said, raising her hands in despair.

“Wasn't it?”, his father said, shaking his head. “Wasn't it me, who was there for you when you needed it the most? Wasn't it me, who helped you and offered you a home when your father put you on the street?”

Ander's gaze was darting between his parents, trying to follow what was happening, trying to make sense of what he heard, feeling that his life was about to shatter into a million pieces. His father's face was red, his voice angry and he was getting louder with every word.

“And wasn't it you talking about how much you loved me, huh? While having fun with my brother behind my back as soon as that useless piece of shit remembered that he had a family and showed up in town for a few days?”

His father's face was twisted in anger and sorrow, his voice reflecting the hate he seemed to feel for his brother, his voice trembling, making it difficult to understand him at all.

“And whenever that bastard showed up, everything revolved around him and the one who actually took care of everything, including a sick mother was forgotten. And that included you, Azucena!”

While his mother was blinking rapidly, her hands fisted in the cushions of the sofa, his father was pointing his finger at her, completely lost in his rage.

“God, how you adored him! But please remind me who was there for you, when he ran away and left you behind, pregnant with his son! Who was there for you to pick up the pieces and help you to organize the adoption? Com'on, say it! Say it!”

_Adoption?_

_She had wanted to give me away ..._

_Nothing but the unwanted result of a bathroom fuck ..._

Ander's ears were ringing painfully and his palms were sweating, while he stared at his mother, expecting her to say something, to laugh, to tell him that this was their punishment for him not showing up. Something, anything! He needed to hear that this wasn't true. But his mother remained silent, frozen in place. His father however wasn't done yet.

“Well, let me remind you! It was me! And even when that shitty couple decided against adopting your son at the last second, I was there for you! Because I was so in love with you, I forced myself to raise my fucking brother's brood for year, seeing his features getting more and more prominent in that child's face with each passing year! And I was reminded every bloody day what a whore you actually are!”

His father's brutal words swept through the room like angry blows of a whip. Ander gasped in shock, his hands clenched into fists, but his mother just stared at the ground, silent tears running down her cheeks.

And while Ander felt through the numbness that had taken hold of him that something significant inside of him was broken, forever destroyed, he couldn't stop himself from defending his mother, even though his life had been nothing but a brutal lie. She hadn't wanted him, she had been planning to give him away, her love for him apparently not strong enough.

He forced himself to take a step in his father's direction, pushing his body in front of his mother's, angrily pointing his finger in the direction of his father.

_No, he isn't your father!_

_He's your father's brother!_

_Your uncle!_

Although he still wasn't able to wrap his head around everything he had heard in those few minutes that had turned his life upside down, he knew that this part – the fact, that this awful man wasn't his father – was actually a relief.

“Don't you dare talking to my mother like that!”, he said, his voice shaking.

While Antonio began to laugh, uncomfortably loud, Ander couldn't fail to hear in this ugly sound everything Antonio felt for him, how much he hated him, how weak he thought he was and suddenly he felt small, useless and so incredibly alone.

“Ander?”

The noise in his ears was so loud that he hadn't heard his mother get up, but suddenly she was standing behind him, her hand gently touching his shoulder.

And only when he turned around and looked into her face, he felt the warm tears running down his face. They passed his mole, which made him look so special, hanging briefly on his upper lip, before rolling off and falling to the floor, his hands clenched into fists and his fingernails cutting into his flesh.

It was the look into his mother's eyes, the sadness and the hint of guilt that undid him. Unable to breathe, he took a step back, before turning around. He staggered out of the living room, his feet carrying him to the front door of their own accord. And while he ran into the night, he heard his mother call out for him, her voice breaking, but her pleading words couldn't stop him.

_Run!_

_Just run!_

And he ran as fast as he could, as far as his legs could carry him, away from the shards that had been his life, while his backpack hit his body painfully with every step. Nothing was getting through the fog in his brain, he didn't even notice that it was raining, thick drops were falling on his face before mingling with his tears.

He didn't know how long, how far he had run, thoughts racing through his head. It could have been seconds, minutes or hours, he couldn't tell. But at some point his lungs burned so badly that he stopped, gasping for air, putting his hands on his knees and bending over to catch his breath.

_I need to talk to him!_

_I need to hear his voice!_

With trembling fingers he pulled out his cell phone, looked for Omar's number and hoped so much that he would answer his phone, wanting nothing but to hear his voice, whispering promises in his ear. That everything would be fine, that there was someone out there who wanted him, needed him, but when he heard that his call couldn't be put through, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, feeling lost and empty inside.

_Fuck_!

He felt a sob rise in his chest, but forced himself to swallow it down. He couldn't imagine going home where all the hatred, guilt and shame were still fresh in the air and while he knew that he couldn't stay at Omar's place, talking to him, just for a few seconds, would have meant the world to him in that moment.

Leaning against a wall in a dark street, he was trying to catch his breath. He needed to think clearly and when he felt that he had gained a little bit of control over his body and his mind, he looked at his phone again, stopping at Guzmán's number. Pressing his cell phone to his ear, he bit his lip nervously while he waited.

_Com'on please!_

_You said you'd be there for me._

_It's a fucking Saturday night, you are surely not sleeping._

The call was forwarded, Guzmán's cheerful voice inviting him to leave a message, but Ander just hung up.

_What a mess!_

A look at his watch told him that it was almost midnight, the time had passed much faster than he had expected. Feeling incredibly exhausted, he went through his contacts, stopping at one name, staring at it for a second.

Somehow he knew that it wasn't a good idea, the mood between them had been awkward since the uncomfortable moment at the party, but he was sure that he could count on him, that he would be willing to help him out. And so Ander ignored the uneasy feeling in his stomach and dialled the number.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Omar had been lying in bed for a while, trying to fall asleep, but with Ander all he could think about, he had been too pent up, his body was feeling too warm, the material of his blanket too rough on his sensitive skin. Wanting to cast a quick look on the time, he had been staring at the black screen of his discharged cellphone.

After putting it on the charger, he had wanted to take a sip from his water bottle to calm himself down, but had found it empty. Shaking his head, he had pushed himself out of bed and walked to the kitchen, where he was now looking into their fridge.

He sighed when he saw that their stock of cooled tap water was nearly gone as well. Taking out the last bottle, that had barely more than a small sip left in it, he emptied it quickly and started filling a few of the clean ones that were standing on the counter with tap water.

“I'm sorry! I should have done that when I took the last full bottle out of the fridge!”

Turning around, Omar saw Nadia leaning in the door frame, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her eyes small and slightly red, she was visibly tired.

“Don't worry! I'll take care of it! I think you should go to bed, you are looking exhausted!”, he said, a soft smile on his face.

Nadia shook her head and sat down on the kitchen table, motioning for Omar to join her. Taking one of the freshly filled bottles with him, Omar let himself fall onto one of the chairs, leaning heavily against its back, knowing that his sister would be asking questions. She had always been the curious one, the one who didn't accept the simple explanations their parents gave her, when she was asking questions.

And Omar had always willingly taken the blame for things Nadia had done, loving her spirit and her clever mind too much, unable to bear the idea of their father putting as many restrictions on her than he had to live with himself. He loved her to pieces, the only person in his family that had never judged him, never looked down on him.

When their father had been punishing Omar for whatever he had done wrong, she always found a way to catch his gaze, to squeeze his hand, to make him feel less alone, letting him know that there was someone standing on his side, even if she wasn't able to speak up against the word of their parents.

_She's everything to me!_

_I would never let anyone harm her._

He looked up, meeting her curious gaze and couldn't stop himself from laughing softly. At home, she wasn't wearing her hijab and her wild curls were falling over her shoulders, reflecting her untamed soul, while she stared at Omar, her head propped in her hands.

“So, Omar? Tell me, where have you been?”

He shrugged, turning the glass bottle in his hands and avoiding his sister's gaze.

“Nowhere special, just hanging around a bit! Meeting a friend!”

She narrowed her eyes and watched Omar closely, giving him the exact same look she gave her father when he said something she disagreed with. But while she bit her tongue in these situations, she didn't let Omar off the hook so easily.

“I might spend most of my time studying, but I am not blind. You've been behaving strangely these last days. Downcast, worried, completely lost in thought in one moment and shortly afterwards you were cheerful again, happier than I've seen you in a long time, with that smile on your face and that glow in your eyes, just like now.”

Omar shook his head, trying to shrug Nadia's observations off, feeling like his chest was about to burst open with all the things he wanted to tell her, but knowing that he couldn't, seeing it as too much of a risk to let her know about his biggest secret.

Before Nadia could ask another question, they heard the door slam hard downstairs, announcing the return of their parents and while Omar was seldom happy when his parents came home, enjoying the little freedom he could have, he felt relieved to be able to avoid his sister's interrogation.

But then he heard his mother crying, bitter sobs escaping her lips, too loud in the silence and he looked up, searching for his sister's gaze, but she was just as surprised as him. While they stared at each other, their father appeared in the door to the kitchen, supporting his wife's weight, her eyes puffy and red, a handkerchief crumpled in her fingers.

“Mother?”, Nadia asked, her voice worried.

While their father pulled out a chair and helped her to sit down, telling her to stop crying, he nodded in Nadia's direction and gave her to understand that she should get up.

“Prepare a tea for you mother!”, he said, while sitting down himself, rubbing his forehead.

“Yes, of course!”, she said, while grabbing the tea pot and filling it with water.

Meanwhile, Omar wondered when he had last seen his mother cry, realizing that it had to be a long time ago, as he couldn't remember it. An uneasy feeling arose in him and he felt his throat contract, knowing that something terrible must have happened. Feelings were rarely shown in his family, only his father's anger was screamed out into the open, while everyone else was always careful not to let their feelings show.

“What happened?”, he asked in a husky voice.

Another sob broke out of his mother's mouth, as she lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Nezhia! They ... they burned down her house! Sarah … she told me at the wedding!”, she said, her voice breaking.

Nezhia, with her beautiful black hair and amber eyes, was his mother's dearest friend. They had grown up together in a small village in Palestine, had shared everything with each other. And even today they still exchanged letters from time to time, so much had united them in the past, that the geographical distance that life had driven between them could not separate their hearts.

Nadia turned around, the teapot in her hands, her lips slightly parted. The worry was prominent in her eyes, she was probably wondering what had happened to Nayla, the youngest daughter of Nezhia, the girl she had played with every summers they had spent in Palestine.

Omar bit his lower lip, pushing himself out of the chair, a picture of Jahmil's face in front of his inner eye, clear and precise as if he stood in front of him, Nayla's brother, the boy Omar had run off with for whole afternoons, exploring the village, only reappearing, when Nezhia had stepped in front of their little house and called them in her deep voice, the freshly cooked food ready on the table.

While Samuel was his friend here in Spain, Jahmil was his friend in Palestine. They understood each other blindly, and while Omar had been heartbroken when he had been forced to leave him behind, emigrating to Spain, he often thought of him and was always happy to see him again, falling in his arms as if no time had passed since they had last seen each other.

Nadia's voice broke the silence that hang heavy in the kitchen and Omar blinked rapidly trying to clear the noise that was raging in his ears.

“What do you mean? Is she ... are they okay? Who burned down their house? Why?”, she asked.

But their mother just shook her head, unable to say another word.

“Nezhia is fine, Nayla too! Ahmed wasn't at home!”, his father said.

Omar gripped the back of the kitchen chair with all his strength, his knuckles turning white.

_What about Jahmil?_

_What about him?_

Wanting to say the words, to ask the question that was so prominent on his mind, Omar opened his mouth, but found himself unable to speak, the fear of what he might hear too big.

But his father's stern voice was cutting through the silence, ripping the floor from under his feet.

“Jahmil is dead!”, his father said.

Omar flinched, trying to keep his balance, holding onto the chair with all his force.

“It's his fault! They set fire to the barn and it expanded to the house!”, he continued, the dislike clouding his voice.

Nadia stared at her father, shaking her head slightly, not understanding what he was saying.

“His fault?”, she asked.

“ _Zinā_ , Nadia! He was guilty of fornication, he lay with another man in that barn. The eldest from the village had been asking Ahmed to take care of his son, to bring him back on the right path, but you know how Ahmed is, he preferred to close his eyes to his son's sins. The other man got away, they wanted to frighten them, but Jahmil ... he didn't make it out, it was … an accident.”

The sharp voice of his father reached his ears, stubbornly penetrating the hum that made it almost impossible for Omar to perceive anything at all, his body shaking. It felt like claws of fear and terror closed around the heart in his chest, stifling all hope in him that he could ever be himself.

_Jahmil was gay!_

_Why hadn't I known?_

_And now …_

His father's words were echoing painfully in his head, while he was fighting against the nausea and the burning tears in his eyes. He couldn't believe what he had heard, despite knowing that in Gaza, where they cam from, homosexuality was still a crime, that one could be punished severely and that the religious communities themselves made life a living hell for anyone they suspected of _Zinā_.

_They had wanted to frighten him …_

_It was an accident …_

_What if it wasn't?_

With all his remaining strength, Omar pushed himself away from the chair that had served him as a lifeline in the last few minutes and forced himself to take one step at a time, wanting nothing more than to get out of this room.

A room in which speechless people stood, who just seemed to accept what had happened without screaming their anger out, knowing full well that his mother wept for the honour of Nezhia and her remaining family and not for the life of Jahmil, Omar's friend, who had died alone, nothing but dry soil surrounding him, in a land in which he was not allowed to be himself and in which his soul was damned to stagger around forever in nothing but darkness.

As he closed the door to his room behind him and let himself sink to the floor, a scream rising in his throat, Omar had the feeling that everything around him was breaking down and that he was no longer able to breathe.

_I'm suffocating!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been especially challenging to write as it included a rather difficult topic. But as long as violence (no matter the kind and the outcome) against people from the LGBTQ+ community is a reality in even a single country of this world, it should be addressed in whatever form, including fan fiction.
> 
> I would love to hear what you think of the revelations in this chapter and how you suspects the story will continue from here. What impact will they have on Omar and Ander? 
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! 
> 
> It means a lot! ❤️


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 🙂
> 
> Thank you very much for the comments, kudos and your support in general, it's a pleasure to work on this story! 
> 
> It's time for a new chapter and as some of you have already guessed, it's going to be another complicated one. 
> 
> Additional warning for this chapter: **explicit sexual content outside of the story's main pairing**
> 
> I hope that you will enjoy it neverthelss and I would love to hear your opinion ❣️

Ander pressed the palms of his hands against the tiles, his knuckles turning white, while warm water was battering on his back. He had turned the shower as hot as he could bear, the pressure of the water as high as possible, wanting to break the numbness that had taken hold of his limbs.

While the down-pouring rain had turned into a little drizzle a while before he had reached the large property where Polo lived with his mothers, his clothes had been soaked, the fabric stuck to his skin, making him feel uncomfortably cold and clammy.

When he felt a tear on his cheek, he held his face into the shower jet, hating himself for how small and powerless he felt. But no matter how much he wanted to push all the dark thoughts out of his mind, he couldn't keep himself from questioning his whole life.

He couldn't believe that only a few hours ago his life had felt almost perfect, the sweet taste of honey and nuts in his mouth, the warm autumn sun burning down on his skin, his arms wrapped around Omar's light body.

And now, nothing but a heartbeat later, he felt as if a tornado had swept over him, leaving him behind an empty shell, the very foundations of his life shaken, everything he had believed in brutally blown away. He couldn't help but feel mocked in the most cruel manner.

_They lied to me!_

_All those years!_

He gritted his teeth and tried not to think about what they had done to him, how betrayed he felt. He was completely exhausted, his body aching. Closing his eyes, he imagined falling into Omar's arms, which would wrap around him, holding and comforting him, easing the pain in his body and mind.

But Omar hadn't answered his call, nor tried to reach him since and while Ander understood that he might be sleeping, completely unaware of how much he needed him in that very moment, he felt a hint of bitterness, knowing that it might be difficult at times to rely on Omar, that there would be moments in which he longed for him, needing his closeness and his reassurance, but where it would be impossible to seek comfort in the arms of the man he was falling for.

_Stop being so damn negative!_

_Pull yourself together!_

Ander reached for Polo's soap, the smell familiar and he felt a wave of gratitude rushing over him. While he hadn't been sure about calling Polo in the first place, the atmosphere between them having been a bit tense since the party, the moment he had seen him standing in the door, a worried look on his face, he had felt relieved. Relieved that there was someone out there he could count on, someone who cared.

When Polo had let his gaze wander over Ander's body, taking in his swollen eyes and the wet hair that was stuck to his forehead, he had felt awkward for a second, weak and worthless, but then Polo had smiled at him reassuringly, grabbed his hand and pulled him inside without saying a word, without asking questions, knowing that Ander wouldn't be ready to answer them.

Ander felt bad for the way he had behaved towards Polo these last days. He hadn't answered his messages and even at school he had been trying to avoid being alone with him, always careful not to get too close, keeping him at distance.

Ander knew that Polo liked him a lot, even admired him at times. He had told him during a drunken night, that he saw things in Ander that he would like to see in himself, intrigued by Ander's open spirit that allowed him to make friends easily, by his self-confidence, his calm and his natural charm.

He knew that it hadn't always been easy for Polo to grow up with two mothers, that he had often felt like an outsider. Volunteering little information about himself, it was sometimes difficult to get close to him and Ander knew that Polo preferred to hide behind that distant gaze that was often perceived as arrogant, but was actually intended to cover his insecurities.

When Ander felt the water turning cold, he quickly washed his hair, before stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel that Polo had gotten for him, remembering the caring smile on his friend's face, when he had been balancing on the tips of his feet to reach the top shelve of the bathroom cabinet, telling Ander with a wink that it was where his mothers hid the biggest and softest towels, the ones he wasn't suppose to use.

He dried himself off with quick movements, feeling a lot better than before the shower, but when he put on the sweatpants and the shirt that Polo had put out for him, his body still felt a little cold. A coldness that came from within him, that couldn't be easily driven away by warm water, a coldness that was reaching deeper, taking hold of something inside of him, that he hadn't noticed before.

After towelling his hair dry, he pushed his curls that were hard to tame when still damp out of his face and rested his hands on the creme-colored porcelain of the sink. He forced himself to look up, to study his reflection in the mirror and when he saw the dark circles under his still puffy eyes, he wanted nothing but to avert his gaze.

But he didn't. He stared at himself, trying to make sense of the last few hours, of all that Antonio had been throwing into his face, aiming at hurting him as much as possible. He tried to decipher all the information that had been in those harsh words, wanting to understand what had happened, wanting to put the pieces of his life back together.

_Who am I?_

_Why didn't she tell me?_

_Why did she let me believe that he's my father?_

_Why didn't she tell me that it wasn't my fault that he couldn't love me?_

And Ander forced his mind to focus on that part of the truth, the part that was painful at first, knowing that he had been lied to for so long, making him feel ashamed for all his desperate efforts to gain Antonio's love, the part that was easier to bear.

There was nothing that connected him to this man. He no longer had to lay awake at night, afraid that he would become just like him at some point, he could finally turn away from him, despise him for everything he had done without feeling guilty.

But no matter how hard he tried, the other questions, the questions that shook him to the core were persistent, fighting their way through his barriers, giving him a headache that made him feel dizzy.

_Am I really unwanted?_

_Did she really want to give me away?_

_Do I mean anything to her?_

_Does she love me?_

All those questions raged in his head, questions to which he wanted answers so desperately that he could barely breathe. But on the other hand he was terribly afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle them, that the emptiness he saw in his eyes, the emptiness that frightened him to his core would never disappear. And for a brief moment he wanted nothing but to cut this emptiness out of his soul, afraid that it would continue to spread inside of him, to swallow him whole.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his thoughts and he forced himself to tear his gaze from his reflection, feeling his heart beating too fast in his chest, uncomfortably so, a wave of nausea taking hold of him. He managed to take a deep breath, Polo's voice reaching his ears.

“Ander? Are you okay?”, he asked.

Ander tossed the towel in the laundry basket and picked up his wet clothes from the floor, before opening the door. Polo looked up at him, a concerned look on his face, that he wasn't able to hide behind his soft smile. Ander's dull eyes got to Polo in a stronger way than he had anticipated and while he had wanted to keep his distance, to respect what Ander had said at the party, he suddenly wanted nothing but to ease Ander's pain and to erase that sad look from his face.

He carefully ran his hand up Ander's arm, drawing shooting patterns on his skin and when he wasn't shrugged off, he moved it further up, his fingers getting lost in Ander's wet curls and he was just about to take the wet clothes out of his hands, wanting to get his body closer, when a door down the hallway opened.

Polo backed away hastily as his mother Andrea came out of her bedroom, her eyebrows pulling together when she saw Ander. She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around her shoulders, approaching them.

“Ander!”, she said. “It's good to see you!”

She looked at him, a sympathetic smile on her lips which were looking unusually thin without the usual make-up. She reached out, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, visibly unsure how to handle the situation. She cleared her throat and tried to give him an encouraging smile.

“Your mother called a while ago!”

Ander pressed his lips together, trying to get a grip on himself, not wanting to burst out in tears.

“What did she say?”, he forced himself to ask.

Polo crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the door frame. As Ander had hardly spoken a word since he had arrived, Polo still didn't know the reason why his friend had called him, asking for help and a place to stay.

And while he didn't want to admit it to himself, he had hoped that Ander might have had a fight with that someone, who had managed to keep Ander away from him, to put a certain distance between them and he had dared to hope that things were about to get back to how they had used to be. But Ander seemed to have had a fight with his mother and Polo forced himself to swallow down his disappointment.

“She said that you had a bad argument! That you ran off!”

Ander stared onto the ground, afraid that she would say something else, something that might cause him to stumble, but although Andrea was a good friend of his mother, she didn't seem to know the reason for their argument and somehow Ander felt relieved, his wounds too raw to have them exposed to an almost stranger.

“Listen, Ander! Your mother sounded very worried! I think you should go home and talk to her! There must be a solution to whatever made you run away! You can figure it out together!”, Andrea said.

Polo's gaze rested on Ander and he didn't miss how his hands clenched into fists, his body stiffening and his breath becoming shallow. Polo knew Ander, the signs were subtle, but he understood that he was at the verge of a breakdown. Whatever had happened at home, must have been bad and he knew that Ander wasn't able to go home in this situation, that he wouldn't get through another confrontation in this state of mind.

“Ander is going to sleep here!”, Polo said.

He had promised Ander that he could stay the night and he wouldn't let him down, not now, not ever. His voice was unusually firm, leaving no room for objection. Andrea eyed her son briefly, before she sighed and nodded.

“Okay, fine!”, she said. “But under one condition! You will come with me, I'll call your mother and you are going to tell her that you are okay, do you hear me? No tricks, I'm being serious!”

Ander took a deep breath, afraid how it would make him feel to hear his mother's voice, but he nodded, feeling both Polo and Andrea watching him closely.

“Fine!”, he said, relived that his voice didn't break. “And thank you!”

Andrea smiled at him, her eyes soft and Ander quickly looked away, not wanting to make a fool out of himself in front of Polo's mother.

“And Polo, be so kind and put Ander's clothes in the washing machine, will you? And prepare the guest room for him!”, she said, while motioning at Ander to follow her.

“Oh ... ehm! I don't want to cause any additional trouble, really! I can sleep in Polo's room just like when we were younger!”, Ander said.

Polo had been taking the wet clothes out of Ander's hands and jerked his gaze upward, their fingers brushing against each other shortly. For the split of a second he saw the surprise that he felt mirrored in Ander's eyes, who didn't seem to grasp what he had just said, but then his lips curved into a soft smile, the first smile Polo had seen in his friend since he had arrived and so he nodded quickly, a warm feeling spreading inside of him.

“Sure, he can sleep in my room!”, he said.

Andrea shrugged.

“Whatever you want, boys! But please, let's hurry up, my feet are getting cold and I have to get up tomorrow morning!”

Polo rolled his eyes before disappearing with Ander's clothes and Ander took one last deep breath before he could bring himself to put one foot in front of the other, the thought of talking to his mother made his stomach contract painfully.

_What do you say to someone who suddenly feels like a complete stranger?_

_Someone you never really knew?_

_Someone who has fooled you for years?_

_Someone who had wanted to give you away?_

Ander followed Andrea blindly to the living room, completely lost in thought. It was only when he heard her voice, speaking softly into her cellphone, that he managed to focus.

“Azucena, listen! He's here, okay? Calm down, I'll get him on the phone with you in a second!”

She turned around, a soft smile on her lips. She pushed the cellphone into his hands, before nodding encouragingly.

“Take your time, Ander! I'll be waiting outside!”

Ander waited until the door closed behind Andrea, his heart beating too fast in his chest and his palms got sweaty. He closed his eyes, picturing his mother in front of his inner eye. He imagined her standing close to the broad window in their living room, staring into the darkness outside, while the glow of the lamp with its colourful shade, was painting her reflection into the glass.

He took a shaky breath and his arm felt unusually heavy when he lifted the cellphone to his ear. Hearing his mother's worried, tearful voice made his stomach contract and he was afraid that he would either burst into tears or throw up, but he forced himself to keep on breathing, to stay in control.

“Ander? Are you there? Please ... talk to me!”, Azucena said.

“I'm okay!”

He let out a silent breath, proud that his voice wasn't shaking, that he didn't sound the way he felt, broken and empty.

“Thank god ... I'm so glad that you called!”

Ander remained silent, listening to the clock ticking on the mantelpiece, the sound uncomfortably loud in the silence. When he didn't reply, his mother continued.

“I am so sorry, Ander! Please ... I can explain it to you, you just have to listen to me okay? It's not what ...!”

But Ander couldn't listen to her. He wasn't ready to hear her explanation, not now, maybe never, knowing that nothing his mother would say could erase the way he felt or make amends for what had happened. Things had changed and they would never be the same again.

“Don't! Not now! I ... don't want to hear it! I'll be staying here over night, maybe for a while!”

Silence, not even the faintest intake of air, it was as if they were both holding their breath. Seconds passed, maybe minutes, Ander had lost all track of time. But then his mother cleared her throat.

“I can understand that! I just want you to know that ... I love you, okay?”

He didn't know what to say, didn't even know if he could really believe her. Before the bitterness could break out of him he hung up, knowing that he was hurting his mother. His head was throbbing painfully and it took him a few seconds before he felt able to move.

He stepped out of the living room and met Andrea's gaze, who was leaning against the wall, waiting for him. He gave her cellphone back, thanked her quickly and was glad when she just nodded briefly, not asking questions.

As he went back to Polo's room he felt how the burden of the past hours weighed heavily on his shoulders, making it difficult for him to walk, feeling the exhaustion taking hold of his whole body. He forgot to knock and opened the door, just as Polo shrugged out of his clothes. He was pulling his button up over his head, his back turned to Ander. His muscles moved gently under his skin and Ander couldn't help but find him attractive.

When Polo turned around, he saw how Ander was staring at him, his face pale and even though his eyes were directed straight at him, he somehow looked absent, his eyebrows pulled together and a frown on his forehead.

Polo bit his lower lip, unsure of what to say, of how to behave towards Ander.

“Ehm ... listen! If you prefer to sleep in the guest room after all, I can go and get it ready for you!”

He was about to put his pants back on, convinced that Ander would take the easy way out, when Ander shook his head and gestured for him to stop.

“No, don't! I ... I don't want to be alone!”, Ander said.

Polo nodded, his gaze fixed on Ander.

“Whatever you need! I'm here for you!”

Ander nodded, a grateful smile on his lips and Polo didn't know what it was, the vulnerability he had heard in Ander's voice or the one he saw in his eyes, but it got to him. He lay down in his bed and lifted his blanket, his eyes on Ander, who slowly began to undress.

When Ander crawled under the blanket, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight, Polo held his breath, slightly nervous, waiting to see what Ander would do, expecting him to turn away. But Ander didn't. He moved close to Polo instead, facing him, longing for closeness and the warmth that was coming from another body, making him feel less alone.

And Polo remained silent. He just looked at Ander for a long time, getting lost in his beautiful eyes, although they were still red and a little puffy. As their breaths mingled and the air between them slowly warmed, Ander felt his heartbeat slowly calm down, his body loosing its stiffness and he sighed, letting his mind drift.

As the knots inside loosened and a silent tear broke free, running down his cheek, Polo reached out for him, his fingers touching his face softly. While catching the moisture with his thumb, his hands moved into Ander's neck, rubbing his skin soothingly.

Ander leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Polo's, sucking in his warmth. And suddenly it happened, the words broke out of him, falling from his lips one by one. He told Polo about the argument, whispered the cruel words that had been trapped inside him into the small room that separated them and he knew that they were safe with Polo.

Polo listened to him, mumbling reassuringly from time to time, his fingers caressing Ander's neck, getting lost in his curls and he gave him strength by his mere presence, by being there for him. And Ander couldn't tell who moved first, who closed the gap between them, but suddenly their lips touched, gently moving against each other.

He enjoyed the feeling, got lost in the warmth and was happy to feel something else than anger, to push the pain and the humiliation to the back of his mind. It was only when he felt Polo's hand slide down over his chest, gently touching his skin, that he realize what he was about to do.

_Omar!_

He remembered Omar's face, desire burning in his eyes, his body pressed against his own. And while Ander craved the touch, wanted to let go, the desire to get lost in a wave of soothing feelings, he knew that he couldn't and that he would regret betraying Omar's trust. He gasped, grabbed Polo's hand, holding it, while seeking his gaze.

Polo had his lower lip pulled between his teeth, his breath coming in short gasps and when he met Ander's gaze he forced himself to smile softly, to keep the disappointment from his face.

“Just hold me, okay?”, Ander asked, his voice hoarse.

He turned around in Polo's arms, pressed his back against his chest and felt how Polo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. By moving his fingers slowly over Ander's shoulders, his breath tickling his neck, Polo spun a cocoon around him and it wasn't long before the tiredness overcame Ander and slowly pulled him to sleep.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

_The late autumn sun was shining down on them, Omar blinked contentedly while he snuggled closer to Ander, lying relaxed on the blanket. With his head resting on Ander's shoulder, he listened to his breathing and enjoyed how the man he was falling for gently caressed his arm._

_He turned around and looked into Ander's face, getting lost in his beautiful features. He was about to lean down, his eyes fixed on Ander's lips, his eyes glistening in the sun, when the acrid smell of smoke penetrated his nose._

_He looked up and saw the green grass around them turn into hard, dry ground. The tall trees with their autoum-colored leaves disappeared and were replaced by pines, acacias and a few fig trees here and there. Small dry bushes surrounded them, the soil was dusty, with gravel and stones everywhere._

_“What's happening?”, Ander asked, a confused look on his face._

_Omar pushed himself up from the blanket, let his gaze wander over the landscape and recognized the old barn in the distance, the one he had played in as a child, knowing that the small village in which he had grown up was lying quietly in the evening sun just behind the hills._

_He didn't know what was happening, didn't understand how he had suddenly ended up here with Ander, just knew that something was wrong, that the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach must be a harbinger of something terrible._

_He stared into the distance, saw smoke rising into the sky, heavy clouds darkening the sun. When he felt Ander's hand on his shoulder, it took him a moment to tear himself away from the sight and it was only when Ander put his hand on his cheek, a worried look in his eyes, that he realized that he was crying._

_He put his hands around Ander's, held his wrists tightly and looked deep into his eyes._

_“I have to go there, okay? I can't look away, do you understand?”, he said, his voice trembling slightly._

_Ander nodded, although he didn't understand a thing. He only knew that he couldn't stand the tears in Omar's eyes and that he would do anything to see him smile again._

_“Promise me that you will stay here! That you won't move a step, okay? Stay on the blanket and you'll be safe!”, Omar said, his eyes fixed on Ander._

_“I promise!”_

_Omar smiled softly, pressed a gentle kiss on Ander's lips, would have loved to get lost in the moment, but knew that he couldn't. He forced himself to turn around and ran as fast as he could, as fast as his legs carried him._

_He felt a strong wind coming up, letting the dust rise from the dry ground, making it difficult for him to see. And even though his lungs burned and his legs felt way too heavy, making every step a challenge, Omar struggled forward._

_He only stopped as he reached the top of the hill, his arms propped on his legs, gasping for breath, he stared into the village below. And while he had known that something terrible must have happened, the sight of Nezhia's burning house hit him like a blow. Forcing air into his lungs, he ran down the hill, as fast as he could, his best friend's name on his dry lips._

_As he approached the house, he saw angry flames leaping into the sky, the wooden beams of the barn completely exposed. The heat was unbearable on his skin and when he saw the motionless body lying in front of the barn, a painful gasp broke from his lungs._

_He dropped to the floor, his eyes fixed on Jahmil and while ashes were raining down on them,it felt like he was suffocating._

_Jahmil's eyes were opened wide, motionless. He was staring into the sky and Omar ran his fingers gently over his friend's skin, whispering soothingly, avoiding the burned areas. His eyes were fixed on the tear streaks on Jahmil's face, tears that had fought their way through the blood and the soot, lost traces that had captured Jahmil's fear and helplessness, while his heart had stopped beating._

_And while tears ran down Omar's own face, mirroring Jahmil's pain, he heard the door of the house open. He tore his gaze from Jahmil, saw Nezhia and her daughter Nayla standing in the door of the burning house. The wind blew through their dark hair, the flames almost embracing them._

_Omar saw Nayla's lips move, but it was difficult to make sense of her words. It took a while for her voice to swell, to become loud enough to reach Omar's ears, but when he heard what she was saying, he winced, fear running through his body._

_“He didn't want to listen to us, Omar! He just listened to his heart and see what happened, see what it did to him! He's gone and we almost died! He risked our lives! Weren't we important enough to him? Didn't he love us enough?”_

_Since he had met Ander, he had only listened to his heard as well, had allowed all those kisses and all those touches, losing himself in Ander, knowing that he shouldn't, that it was forbidden, that his religion and his family wouldn't accept it. And while he had disregarded it, wanting to be free, to be happy, he hadn't realized that he was putting his family in danger._

_What if someone found out?_

_What if someone would try to harm him?_

_Them?_

_Omar shuddered and looked back at Jahmil. His face was completely covered in ashes and when Omar brushed them away gently, he suddenly froze, seeing his friend's face transform into the face of his beautiful sister, her wild curls falling over her shoulders, her lips parted in a silent scream and her eyes staring into the sky._

_No!_

_Nadia!_

_No, no, no!_

_What have I done?_

_Omar stared at his sister, grabbed her shoulders, shook her hard while screaming her name, begging her to breathe, but no matter how loud he screamed, she didn't move, her body remained motionless in Omar's arms._

_Suddenly Omar heard steps behind him, loud and fast, drumming on the dry ground. He got up a little, Nadia's head still carefully cradled in his hands and when his eyes fall on Ander, running into his direction, his heart contracted in fear._

_“No, don't! Turn around, I beg you, turn around! You promised to stay on the blanket! You promised!”_

_But Omar's voice was lost under the roar of the fire or maybe Ander just didn't want to listen to him. He kept running, came closer and closer, the wind blowing through his curls. But suddenly Omar felt a strong grip around his wrists and while he hoped for the briefest split of a second that Nadia was still alive, another wave of horror filled him as he turned back around._

_He gasped, when he saw that it was no longer Nadia lying below him, but Ander himself. And while Jahmil and Nadia had been dead, Ander stared at him, his eyes heavy and lost, his chest rising and falling with rattling breaths._

_He looked at Omar, didn't seem to understand what was happening around him, listening to Omar's softly whispered words, his hands caressing his face and warm tears dripping down in him._

_“I'm so sorry, Ander! I didn't want this to happen! Please, don't leave me alone, keep breathing!”_

_Ander nodded weakly, staring at Omar, holding on to his hands, as he felt his breath becoming shallow, his lungs burning and his face twisting in pain. Omar suddenly felt how hands grabbed him from behind, holding his shoulders firmly, while trying to pull him away from Ander, who looked up at him in fear._

_He screamed, trying to hold onto Ander's hands, not wanting to leave him alone, but no matter how hard he fought, the hands were pulling him backwards, away from Ander, leaving him alone in the dark and the last thing Omar saw was the pain in his eyes._

“Omar?”

He gave a startled gasp, felt cold air hitting his sweaty skin, his hands were fisted into his blanket and he was breathing heavily. Nadia leaned over him, her hands clasping his shoulders. She looked at him with concern, her wide eyes reflecting the light of the bedside lamp, which she must have switched on.

“You must have had a nightmare! You were screaming in your sleep!”, she said.

Omar closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, the sight of Jahmil, Nadia and Ander, dead or dying in his arms, still far too real in his head. His heart was beating painfully in his chest and when he opened his eyes again and saw his sister in front of him, alive and breathing, he couldn't stop himself. He pulled her close, buried his head in her hair, inhaling her familiar smell.

Nadia was surprised, Omar rarely showed his feelings so openly, but she returned his hug, her fingers stroking his back gently. When Omar pulled away from her, she saw the pain in his eyes, nothing was left of the glow that she had noticed just a few hours ago.

“Jahmil?”, she asked softly.

Omar nodded, unable to say anything, afraid to burst into tears if the tried.

“Things are going to change, Omar! One day, we are going to have children of our own. It's going to be our responsibility, you know! To teach them new values, to show them that it is okay to be different, that they can be whoever they want to be! We will not pass on the hatred, the shame and the guilt that we were taught!”

Although Omar had known that Nadia didn't agree with their father on many things, he was surprised at how clearly she voiced her opinion. And while her words gave him hope, they didn't change the fact that Jahmil was dead, that the change would come too late for him and for many others.

And as painful as it was, he knew that he didn't live in a potentially better future, but here and now and that he couldn't risk his own happiness for the happiness and the safety of his family.

_I will protect you!_

_Nothing is every going to happen to you because of me!_

_I promise!_

With these thoughts on his mind, he just nodded and forced himself to smile at her, while he reached for his water bottle, hoping that his sister would understand that he wanted to be alone. And she did, slowly getting up from his bed and smiling at him one last time, before closing the door behind herself.

_You know what to do!_

Omar leaned his head back and took a deep breath before reaching for his cell phone and turning it on. And while he was aiming at protecting his family, knowing that what he was about to do would hurt Ander deeply, the memory of his fearful eyes, his rattling breath were still fresh in Omar's memory. Should his father ever find out what he had done, Ander might also be in danger. The look in his father's eyes when talking about Jahmil's death had left no doubt on his beliefs.

When his cellphone vibrated between his fingers, he was surprised to see that Ander had tried to call him a few hours ago. And when he opened his messenger app and saw that Ander was online, in the middle of the night, shortly after two o'clock, he frowned in confusion and was immediately concerned.

_Stop this!_

_You have no right to worry about him anymore!_

_Not with what you are about to do!_

As he wrote the message, he bit his lower lip as hard as he could, forcing himself to feel the pain, blinking back the tears that were burning in his eyes, his fingers trembling slightly.

**[Omar: Today was a mistake! Things have changed! I don't want you to call me anymore and I don't want to see you again.]**

He wanted to add how sorry he was, how much he hated himself for doing this, but he didn't. He took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to destroy what had given him so much happiness just a few hours ago and hit the send button.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Ander was in the bathroom when he read the message. He had slept a little, but had woken up again and again and when he just couldn't stand turning from one side to the other anymore, he had gotten up to drink a bit of cold water, hoping that it would calm him down.

He started at the letters on his display, trying to understand what was happening, feeling just as petrified as a few hours earlier when his life had turned out to be nothing but a lie. To read that Omar thought of what had happened between them as a mistake, that he no longer wanted to talk to him, didn't want to see him again, hit him like a blow.

_A mistake?_

_Oh god ... don't do this to me!_

_Please!_

He saw that Omar was still online and started typing as fast as he could, wanting to understand, wanting answer to his many questions, hoping that everything would be turning out to be a bad joke.

**[Ander: Omar, what the fuck? You can't believe this! I've looked into your eyes today and I know that this wasn't a mistake! Don't do this to me! Tell me that you don't mean it!]**

But Omar logged off and Ander gritted his teeth, anger rising in him. He couldn't bear to be ignored, he had to know, he had to talk to Omar.

He searched for his number, heard the dial tone in his ear and held his breath. He waited, seconds seemed to last forever. The moment Omar declined his call, a scream broke out of his chest and he forced himself to muffle it in his fist, barely stopping himself from throwing his cell phone against the wall, rejection and humiliation burning hotly in his veins.

_I don't want you anymore!_

Omar's words echoed painfully in his head, making his ears ring. They had hit him hard, too hard. He was standing too close to the abyss, the wounds that Antonio had inflicted still too fresh. And Omar's words were too much, made him stumble backwards and lose his footing.

The feeling of being unwanted, both by his mother and by Omar cut through his flesh and he knew that he was going to fall and that he was too weak to hold on. And while he knew that he would fall, he also knew that Polo would be there for him, like he always was, no matter how badly Ander had treated him.

Trusting that Polo would catch him, he got lost in his feelings, putting one foot in front of the other. Ander found his way back to Polo's room, saw that his friend was awake, a worried look in his eyes that were shining in the glow of the small lamp that he had switched on.

Polo sat upright in bed, the blanket crumbled in his lap and when he looked at Ander, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Ander was staring at him, his lips parted and his hands clenched into fists, a lost look in his eyes.

“Ander? Are you okay?”, he asked.

Ander swallowed and took a step towards the bed.

“Take your clothes off, Polo!”

Polo raised his eyebrows questioningly, not sure if he had understood Ander correctly, but when he saw how Ander pulled his shirt over his head, before letting his boxers glide down his muscular legs, his breath caught in his throat.

He hesitated for a moment, but when he saw that Ander's eyes glistened feverishly, he did what Ander wanted. He shrugged out of his tank top, pushed the blanket aside and let his fingers slide to the waistband of his underwear, while Ander knelt on the bed and slowly moved closer, his gaze fixed on Polo.

When both were completely naked, Ander leaned over him. Polo felt his warm breath on his skin, while Ander was pressing hard, wet kisses down his neck, before letting his gaze slide over his body, followed by his fingers, his breathing fast.

“Ander?”

Polo's voice was soft, he was feeling insecure, not knowing what to do. Ander looked up, his eyes finding Polo's, holding his gaze. And Polo saw the raw vulnerability that spoke out of them, felt his body shudder under Ander's weight, a short gasp escaping his lips.

“Tell me that you want me, Polo!”, Ander said, his voice hoarse.

And although they had made out before and Ander always liked to take control in bed, Polo knew that this was different, that it went deeper, that it had another, a rawer meaning. And while he didn't fully understand what was happening, his body reacted to Ander. He leaned back, his hand wandering into Ander's neck and he pulled him down with him until their lips were only inches apart.

“I want you! So, so much!”

Ander sighed and for the split of a second Polo wondered if he had heard relief in it, but then Ander's lips met his, his tongue seeking entrance into his mouth, warm and hungry. And as a gasp tumbled from Polo's lips, he stopped thinking. Enjoying the desire that was cursing through his veins, he closed his eyes and let Ander take control over his body.

Despite noticing how different Polo tasted in comparison to Omar, Ander lost himself in him, numbing his pain with wild kisses. His hands were exploring Polo's body, which he knew so well, but felt completely different this time. And Polo gave himself up to him and while he was usually so shy, he was vocal in bed, being obvious about how much he was craving Ander's touch.

Polo's voice in his ear, telling him how good Ander made him feel made him close his eyes, while his hand closed tightly around Polo's length. Polo's moan send a shiver down Ander's spine and he enjoyed the hard flesh in his hand, his fingers familiar with the shape of Polo's cock, finding all the right places to make him squirm in the sheets.

Ander rubbed his fingers through the precum that had gathered at the top of Polo's cock and searched for his eyes, while he moved his fingers down his length, past his balls and to the hidden place behind them, touching Polo's entrance lightly with the tip of his finger, spreading the moisture there.

“Do you have lube?”, Ander asked, staring into Polo's eyes.

Polo shuddered, his breath coming in harsh gasps. They had never gone that far, and while Ander's touch felt good and he had imagined this to happen countless times before, he couldn't pinpoint how it made him feel, the air between them charged with so many feelings that his heart was about to burst in his chest.

And while Ander watched him closely, trying to gather his reaction to this foreign touch, Polo saw the honest need in Ander's eyes, eyes in which he sometimes got lost, feeling warm and accepted, so different to the way Carla used to roll her eyes at him, while twisting her mouth a little, making him feel small and insignificant.

He had never felt insignificant around Ander, at least not before the party. He had loved how close Ander let him get in the secret nights they had spend together in the past, the way he could let himself fall into his arms, just enjoying the desire he felt, taking what was given to him so freely without constantly worrying about being perfect for Carla, reflecting on every movement he made and on every word he said.

“Please, trust me!”, Ander said, breaking the silence, his voice thick with desire.

And it was the please that tumbled from Ander's lips and the vulnerability in his eyes that undid him and he nodded, pushing himself up, his limbs barely under control, while he reached over to his bedside table, handing Ander the lube that he liked to use when getting himself off.

Ander looked down at him, his cheeks flushed as he opened the lube and warmed it a little between his fingers. He took hold of Polo's thighs, spreading them a little wider, before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting his lubed fingers tease Polo's entrance.

Polo's eyes were fixed on him, following his every move, while his breathing sped up. The feeling of Ander's fingers between his legs, the slight pressure against his most intimate place was a little strange, but the way Ander looked down at him, as if he was the only thing that mattered, made him lift his pelvis, seeking the pressure, showing Ander how much he wanted it.

“Say it!”

Ander's voice send a thrill through Polo's body and the words tumbled from his lips. He told Ander how much he wanted his touch, how much he wanted him, how good it felt. And it were exactly these words that Ander needed so badly, that wrapped his wounded soul in a soothing balm, making him feel treasured and valuable.

And when Ander carefully pushed a finger into Polo, feeling the tight ring opening for him, hearing Polo's soft moan, he closed his eyes for a moment. He was aware that he actually wanted someone else to lie below him, that he wanted to conquer another body like this, but when he felt how Polo's body reacted to him, seeking his touch, he forced himself to push Omar to the back of his mind.

He leaned over Polo searched for his lips and kissed him passionately, while one hand massaged Polo's hard cock and the finger of his other hand was buried deep inside him, exploring and stretching his tight hole.

When he felt how Polo opened up to him, he pushed a second finger inside and moaned when he saw Polo rolling his eyes in lust and fisting his hands into the blanket.

“God, you look so hot like that! Tell me how good it feels! Tell me what you want!”, Ander said, a drop of sweat rolling down his back.

Polo's breathe came in spurts and he struggled to focus on what Ander had said, the way Ander's fingers were moving inside of him, teasing and stretching him, driving him crazy. The fact that Ander knew exactly where his cock was particularly sensitive and knew how to touch it how he liked it most, didn't make it any easier for him to think clearly.

But when Ander slowed his movements, Polo groaned in frustration, forced himself to look Ander and felt a shiver running down his spine, seeing that Ander's eyes were glistening feverishly, eating him up with his nothing but his gaze.

“Don't stop! It feels … god, it feels so good! You feel so good inside of me!”

Polo forced the words out of his mouth and while he was still staring at Ander, he began to move his body, thrusting his cock into Ander's fist, seeking the friction before frantically pushing himself down onto Ander's fingers. He wanted to feel them deep inside of him, as deep as possible, ignoring the slight burn his movements were causing, it just felt too good.

“Holy shit, Polo!”, Ander said, fascinated by how much Polo got lost in the moment.

Ander was hard as a rock, he felt himself getting closer and closer to his own orgasm, hardly needing any stimulation, the possibility to satisfy another male body in such a way, to see someone trust him like that, squirming in pleasure under his hands, aroused him incredibly and he was drowning in Polo's lust.

“Please … I need you, I need you so much, keep moving!”, Polo said, his voice breaking.

_He needs me!_

_He wants me!_

Ander felt warm inside, angled his fingers a little differently, finding the place deep inside Polo's body that would drive him over the edge. Intense pleasure shook Polo, he tore his eyes open and threw his head back, while his toes curled in. He came harder than ever before, while Ander was massaging his cock through his entire orgasm, thick drops of cum landing on his chest.

Ander grasped his own cock in a hard grip, sliding his hand over his aching length, needing only one or two firm strokes with the right twist at the end to make him come too, adding to the mess on Polo's chest. He was panting slightly, leaning down to Polo and capturing his lips in a wet, open-mouthed kiss.

He felt how Polo's hands wandered over his sweaty back, before finding his chest, pushing him away gently. Polo searched his gaze, something deep running in his eyes, sending a shiver down Ander's spine, while he watched how Polo's lips trembled slightly, trying to form words, to tell him something.

“Are you okay?”, Ander asked, staring down at Polo.

Polo managed to nod, his fingers trailing softly over Ander's chest.

“Ander?”

“Yeah?”

Polo swallowed hard, looking up into Ander's eyes, gathering his courage.

“You are driving me crazy, Ander! I'm losing my mind with you! I do want you! I really do, you know! I would … I would leave her for you!”

Polo's whispered words were of so much vulnerability that they hit Ander like a cold shower. Desperately wishing that it would be Omar instead of Polo wanting him so much, expressing his needs so clearly, Ander felt anger rising in his chest, anger at himself.

_What have you done?_

He had taken advantage of Polo and his trust, had used him to fulfil his own needs, to make himself feel better, needed. And the worst was that he had known it, although Polo had never said a thing. He had sensed that there was something deeper on Polo's side, that he sometimes stared at Ander a little too long, his gaze a little too intense, getting lost in his touch too much, that it was more than fooling around for him.

He felt like an asshole, a bit like Antonio, the man he didn't want to have anything in common with. Polo's insecure gaze was burning his skin and he forced himself to smile, removing his fingers carefully from Polo's body, making him gasp softly, getting hold of his shirt. He began cleaning Polo's chest, avoiding his gaze, trying to get a grip on himself, to somehow salvage the situation.

“Yeah, you are losing your mind!”, he said, forcing a smile on his lips.

Polo looked away, liking his lips, obviously hurt and Ander sighed silently.

“You're high from your orgasm! Come here, let me hold you!”, he added.

He lay down behind Polo, rolling onto his side and pushing his body close, pulling the blanket over them. And while he knew that he might just make things worse, he grabbed Polo's hand, intertwining their fingers, pressing a soft kiss in his neck. Polo relaxed in his arms, pulled their hands onto his chest, his heartbeat way too fast.

And Ander felt empty, maybe even emptier than before, hated himself for what he had done. Just because he had been hurt himself, he had ignored someone else's feelings. But while he wanted to scream his pain and his hatred into the night, he held his breath and pressed his head against Polo's shoulder, seeking comfort he didn't deserve, silently pleading for forgiveness.

Forgiveness from Omar or from Polo, maybe from both, he wasn't sure. He just knew that he had fucked up, that he wasn't better than Antonio, that he hurt other people willingly, without thinking, without caring. And he stared into the darkness for a long time until he finally fell into a restless, unforgiving sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it ... sometimes things have to get worse, before they can get better! 
> 
> I guess in every story there are moments where characters are taking poor decisions! 
> 
> Very curious to hear what you think about both Ander's and Omar's behavior! 
> 
> Take care and until next time ❣️


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 🙂
> 
> Thank you once again for the comments and kudos, it means a lot! 
> 
> I'm sorry that I am a bit late with posting this time, the weekend has been a bit busier than I expected! 
> 
> But here comes the new chapter - it might have a bit less "action" than the previous ones, but it is setting the stage for the next challenges the boys are going to face! 
> 
> I hope that you will enjoy it and I am very curious to hear your opinion ❣️

Gray clouds moved across the sky, driven by a strong wind and rain was hanging in the air. Ander looked up, pulling his jacket a little tighter around his shoulders. He was pacing nervously, his hands stuffed into his pockets, scanning the crowd of students that was walking towards the school's entrance with his eyes.

He was utterly exhausted and had barely slept all night. Sunday had been a nightmare. Feeling guilty and too ashamed to look into Polo's eyes, Ander had sneaked out of his bed and his house in the early morning hours, roaming the streets until he couldn't feel his feet anymore. 

With evening approaching, he had considered calling Guzmán again, but had decided against it, forcing himself to go home. His mother had been crying with relief, but he had refused talking to her, locking himself into his room, not even touching the food she had left in front of his door. 

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, making them burn uncomfortably. He watched the withered leaves sweeping through the streets, anxiously waiting for Polo, knowing that he had to talk to him, wanting to apologize for what he had done, while being terribly afraid that he would lose him over this. 

_I need you!_

_I need your friendship!_

Knowing that he was selfish once again, focused on his own needs, he rubbed his hand through his hair angrily. Instead of being worried about himself, he should start caring about Polo's feelings. If he would have given more of a damn before, he might not even have ended up in this mess. Now he could only hope that Polo would be able to forgive him. 

When he recognized the car in which Polo was usually brought to school, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a last deep drag from his cigarette before throwing it on the ground. He watched Polo getting out of the car and he immediately saw that he wasn't doing well, his shoulders were hunched over, his whole body radiating a certain devastation. 

_Shit!_

Polo swung his backpack over his shoulder, buried his hands in his pockets and walked towards the entrance, his gaze fixed on the ground. 

“Polo!”, he called, trying to get his attention. 

But while it seemed to him as if Polo had flinched when hearing his name, he didn't stop. Ander sighed, pushing himself into his direction, calling his name once again. He had to talk to him, unable to sit in the same classroom, sharing a desk with him, feeling his disappointment, his resentment. They had to talk about this, if he didn't want it to poison their friendship. 

_If our friendship still exists!_

Ander shook his head, forcing himself to think positively as he pushed his way through the students gathering in front of the school. 

“Polo, please!”, he tried again. 

And this time Polo slowed his steps and Ander saw him wrestling with himself, before he finally turned around and looked straight at him. His blue eyes were small and his face was exceptionally pale, even more so than usual. It struck Ander to see his friend like this, knowing that he was to blame for it, but he quickly grabbed Polo's hand and pulled him out of the crowd, a little to the side, where they could talk. 

“Hey!”, Ander said. 

When Polo didn't reply and just stared at him, his eyes intense, but difficult to read, Ander didn't know what to say, how to ask Polo for forgiveness, telling him that he had screwed up, but needed him so badly as a friend, afraid to lose him. He cleared his throat and forced himself to speak. 

“Listen, Polo! Thank you! For … for helping me on Saturday, for listening, for being there! I don't know what I would have done without you, really! But … I wasn't fair to you and I am so sorry! I didn't want to hurt you, I shouldn't have …!” 

Once Ander had started talking, the words had tumbled out of him and he was hoping that bringing them out into the open, acknowledging his mistake would make him feel better, lighter. But when Polo raised his hand and shook his head slightly, his lips pressed together, Ander paused and prepared himself for the worst. 

_He's going to tell you to fuck off!_

_And that's exactly what you deserve!_

Polo stood still, glancing at the ground for a second while collecting himself. When he raised his gaze and looked directly at Ander, he had a soft and vulnerable smile on his lips. The words that came out of his mouth surprised Ander, were soothing him and took the burden of the previous day off his shoulders, at least a part of it, making him feel more like himself again.

“Don't, Ander! It's okay! I'm not angry at you! It's not your fault, I knew what I was getting myself into! That it might not be the best idea and I also knew that … you'd be gone when I wake up!” 

Polo swallowed, pausing briefly, trying to control his voice, while observing Ander closely. He saw him take a step towards him, something like relief in his eyes, but also a bit of fear, something Polo felt as well, because he wasn't sure if they'd be able to move on after this or if it would change their friendship forever. He had thought carefully about what he wanted to say to Ander if he'd get a chance, actually expecting Ander to go back to ignoring him and forced himself to continue. 

“But please, Ander! Just promise me one thing, okay? Let's forget about this and pretend nothing happened, I can live with that. But I can't stand the way you've been keeping me at a distance, how you've been pushing me out of your life! I need you! I want us to be friends, I just … god, I don't want to lose you, okay?” 

Polo tried not to flinch at his own words, even though they were painful. He knew that he felt too much for Ander, that it would break his heart to pretend that yesterday never happened, the feelings had been too intense, too deep, but he would put them aside for a friendship with Ander, unable to bear the thought of losing him for good.  Ander nodded quickly, aware that it might be a bit too easy, that he didn't deserve to get away with what he had done so smoothly, but he pulled Polo close, hugged him tightly and felt relief cursing through his veins, knowing that at least one of the things that weighed so heavily on him had been solved. 

“I promise!”, he said. 

And he meant it, not knowing how difficult things would get, what he would be putting Polo through and how much he would let him down in a situation where he would need nothing else than the friend that Ander had promised him to be.  Polo smiled as he broke away from Ander and while they slowly walked to the entrance together, his curiosity overwhelmed him and he just had to ask, wanting to know who had managed to win Ander's heart. 

“So … I guess you are seeing someone then?” 

Ander sighed, rubbing his hand over his neck before shrugging helplessly. He wanted so badly to talk to someone about Omar, about his message, wanting to know from a friend whether it was worth fighting, whether he should write Omar despite the fact that he had told him not to reach out anymore, whether he should be so bold to just go and confront him, but he wasn't sure if it would be fair to get Polo involved in this.  Feeling Polo's gaze on his skin, he bit his lower lip and looked at him. 

“I don't know, Polo! I guess I thought I was, but … now, I'm not so sure anymore! He doesn't want to see me again!” 

Ander had trouble keeping his voice from breaking, talking about Omar hurt. Just when he had thought that things were going well between them, that Omar was finally managing to open up to him, the memory of what they had shared still intense, he had suddenly withdrawn once again, overwhelming Ander with his erratic reaction at a moment when he himself had just lost the ground under his feet.  Polo was reaching out for him, squeezing his shoulder sympathetically. 

“It might seem complicated right now, but if you really think that he can make you happy, then don't give up on him just yet! I'm sure you will figure things out!” 

Being used to hold back on his own wishes and needs since his childhood, Polo meant what he said. With his warm-hearted character that he was hiding by being distant at times, he wanted Ander to be happy, even in someone else's arms, even if it was potentially destroying him. 

A few meters from their classroom, Ander stopped and smiled at Polo, grateful to have a friend like him, someone to whom he mattered, someone he could rely on. 

“Thank you, Polo!”, he said. 

And this thank you entailed so much more than words could actually say and for the split of a second, Ander wished that he could feel more for Polo, that he could fall for him, for someone with whom everything would be easy and picture-perfect. But maybe Ander wasn't the type for picture-perfect, but for complicated and painful, making a relationship so much more real and intense. 

“So, are we okay?”, Polo asked. 

“Yes, we are!” Ander smiled softly at him. 

“Perfect! So, let's get inside!”, Polo said, nodding into the direction of their classroom. 

“I'll go to the bathroom and get my books out of the locker, but I'll see you in a moment!” 

Ander nodded at Polo before turning around and walking towards the bathroom. All the pent-up feelings, the fear that Polo might not want to have anything to do with him anymore, the conversation about Omar, had been a bit much and he needed a short moment to collect himself before the class started.  He was relieved to find that he was alone in the bathroom and slowly approached one of the skins. 

After a quick look into the mirror, seeing that the dark circles under his eyes were still prominent, he washed his face with cold water, relived that the conversation with Polo had gone so well. But the tension at home was unbearable, ignoring his mother and Antonio, fighting the questions that were overwhelming him and the fact that he didn't know how to deal with Omar after the message he had received still weighed heavily on his shoulders. 

_One step at a time!_

_You are going to figure things out!_

_You're not one to give up easily!_

After drying his face with a tissue, he glanced one last time into the mirror, letting his hand trail through his messy curls before making his way to his locker, where he grabbed the books he needed for class. 

He was about to turn around the corner, when he heard Nadia's voice, soft and worried.  She was talking about Omar, hearing her pronouncing his name send a shiver down his spine and he couldn't help but stop curiously. He knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop on her, but he had to know what she was talking about and moved his body a little closer to the corner as quietly as he could, his back pressed against the wall. He tilted his head in the direction of her voice, holding his breath and clutching his books against his chest. 

“Is Omar doing any better?” 

It took Ander a moment to recognize the voice, deep and a little rough, but then he was sure that it was Samuel, who was talking to Nadia. He bit his lower lip and tried to listen as hard as he could, an uneasy feeling in his stomach at the thought that Omar might not be doing well.

“I don't think so! He didn't leave his room all Sunday, not even after you left. Father was screaming at him to get down to the store and to help him out, but he just refused, it's something he never does. I was hoping that it would help him to talk to you, but I don't know, he withdraws into himself.” 

Nadia was whispering and it seemed as if her voice almost broke in some places, making it difficult for Ander to understand her. And yet, what he had heard was enough for him to worry about Omar, the desire to go to him and to pull him into his arms, to offer him comfort almost overwhelming him. 

_Why is he withdrawing into himself?_

_Because of the message he wrote?_

_I_ _s it hurting him that much to push me away?_

Ander tried to think clearly, but the thoughts were racing in his head, making it difficult for him to make sense of what he had heard. And although he didn't fully understand what Nadia and Samuel were talking about, what he had heard somehow gave him hope.

_Or had something else happened?_

_Something that forced him to react in that way?_

And while all those questions remained without an answer, Ander understood that Omar must have had a reason to send him that painful message, that maybe what they had wasn't lost, that he just had to figure out how to get Omar to change his mind, to give them one more chance. 

It was Samuel's voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Let me know if there is something else I can do! But don't worry too much, okay? You know how Omar is. He needs to figure things out for himself. He will need time to come to terms with Jahmil's death, especially because it was senseless and violent. He can't just move on and pretend nothing has happened. But he's strong, he'll be fine!” 

_Jahmil's death?_ _What are they talking about?_

_What happened?_

Ander's eyebrows were pulled together, a deep frown on his forehead, while he tried to concentrate on the conversation between Samuel and Nadia, even though he would have liked to jump out of his hiding place and ask for answers to all his questions. 

“I hope you are right, Samuel! He's been so weird the last days, sometimes so sad and devastated and then full of energy and joy again. His eyes were shining so brightly and he was sneaking out of the store whenever he could. I don't know what's going on, but I'm afraid that I won't see him smile again. That he's going to remain so withdrawn, forced to take care of that stupid store with nothing else in his life! I'm afraid … that he will lose himself in this dark mood! That we will lose him, do you understand?” 

_Lose him?_

_God, I don't want to lose him either!_

Ander felt his heart beating in his throat, fast and hard, but he did not notice how sweaty his palms had become and when his books slipped out of his hands and hit the floor hard, Nadia and Samuel stopped talking.

In the silence that followed, Ander gasped, before pressing his hand to his mouth and his body against the wall as firmly as he could. He closed his eyes and held his breath, while the seconds were ticking by.

“What was that?”, Nadia asked.

Ander could only hope that neither of the two would follow the noise. How could he have explained that he was standing there, completely confused and heartbroken, neither of them knowing what connected him to Omar, how important he was to him and how much he wanted to be there for him, to help him overcome the pain he was in.

It was the shrill sound of the bell that broke the silence.

“Let's hurry up or we will be late!”, Nadia said.

Ander sighed and leaned his head against the wall as he heard Samuel and Nadia hurrying down the corridor. He took a deep breath before pushing himself off the wall. He quickly picked up his books and followed them towards the classroom, feeling completely out of balance, even more so than before and he knew that he would be unable to follow the class, with his mind focussed on Omar and what he had just heard.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

His life had never been easy and he had faced many downs already, somehow always managing to cling his hope to something, to make himself stand up again, believing that things would get better someday, but he couldn't remember that he ever had ever felt as devastated, as empty and broken as today.

Jahmil's death, the terrible dream with Ander dying in his arms, the message he had been forced to sent, he just didn't know what to do, what to feel, everything seemed pointless. He had been lying in bed all Sunday, ignoring his father's screaming, wanting him to get up. He had just pressed his pillow on his ears and closed his eyes, wishing himself far away, dreaming of another, a better place.

It was Monday morning, shortly after nine o'clock. He took a deep breath and rolled onto his back, knowing that he would have to get up soon, that his father was waiting for him and that he had already overstrained his patience, that he wouldn't get away with more of this behaviour.

He carefully let go of the folder that Ander had given him, letting his fingers tail over the soft material. Biting his lower lip, he blinked rapidly, trying to get a grip an himself. He had taken the folder out of its hiding place and had pressed it against his chest, crying himself to sleep, after countless hours of restless turning and tossing around.

“Omar, get down here!”, his father screamed.

Omar sighed and forced himself into a sitting position, swinging his tired limbs out of bed, feeling his head spin when he got up. He hadn't been able to eat, not even after both Nadia and Samuel had tried their best to get him to swallow a few bites of food and now he felt how exhausted and drained his body was.

He took a sip of water, his lips rough and dry, before getting dressed. Everything took longer than usual and it almost felt like he was stuck in a cloud of cotton, which made it impossible for him to control his body and his thoughts. As hard as he tried to think of nothing, his mind kept returning to Ander, longing for him and his strong arms, his calm and his support.

But Omar knew that he no longer had a right to long for Ander, that it was too dangerous and as painful as it was, he was sure that he had made the right decision, that rejecting Ander, pushing him away, was the only solution. But while his mind seemed to understand this, his heart didn't. It was beating painfully in his chest, longing for Ander with each desperate beat.

_Get a grip on yourself!_

_Stop being so dramatic!_

_Life will go on … somehow!_

He didn't know how, couldn't imagine how he would get the strength to fight himself out of the darkness that he felt around him, but he knew that he had to, for his family and especially for his sister. She finally had the opportunity to make her dream come true and Omar wouldn't make it harder, wouldn't be a burden to her, having already noticed how much it affected her to see him so depressed.

While he heard his father's angry voice calling for him once again, he grabbed his cellphone and threw a quick look on his display. No new messages, no missed calls and while that was exactly what he had asked for, he couldn't stop himself from hoping that Ander had reached out, that he wasn't ready to give up on him so easily.

_I miss him so much!_

_His beautiful smile!_

_Our conversations!_

_The way he made me feel alive!_

But it didn't help, things were as they were and nothing was about to change. Omar shook his head briefly, before heading downstairs, where his father was waiting for him, an angry look on his face. After a torrent of words consisting of accusations and instructions, the door fell closed behind his father, leaving him alone with all the work that hadn't been done, expecting him to be finished when coming back from the wholesale market.

Mondays were always busy in the store and his father had made it abundantly clear that he expected Omar to do all the work. Omar sighed, having no choice but to get to started straight away, wanting to avoid an argument with his father at all costs.

And so he started sweeping the floor, before filling up the cash register with change for the day. While first regular costumers came, mainly Muslim women doing their weekly shopping, he cashed their purchases and packed them in paper bags, checking the books for the past week in between, knowing that he would have to hurry to finish everything his father wanted him to.

When he was sure that last week's receipts were all neatly entered into their cash book, he started working himself through the store's entire shelves, sorting out the products that were about to expire or the fruit that was overripe, trying to remember where he had to fill up new goods.

And while he actually did these things every week, they were harder for him than usual, he was slow and unfocused, feeling a sharp headache throbbing behind his temples. He felt dizzy and although he knew that he risked not finishing on time, that his father might end up screaming at him, he paused for a moment, grabbed one of the fruits he had just sorted out and leaned against the counter.

He had just bitten into the apple and was chewing slowly, forcing himself to swallow, the feeling of food in his mouth making his stomach contract uncomfortably, as his cellphone vibrated. He grabbed it hastily, his heart beating a little faster, hoping that it was Ander writing him. When he saw that it was a notification from the gay dating app, he sighed in disappointment and wiped it aside without opening or reading the message.

_I should delete this stupid app!_

He briefly considered doing it immediately, giving up this last act of resistance now that he had already pushed Ander away, that he had decided to play by his family's, his father's rules, knowing that he could never allow himself to feel what he really wanted to feel, to be who he really wanted to be.

But somehow he couldn't, feeling the memory of Ander's touch on his body, his breath on his skin, his lips on his. And the feelings were so intense that he couldn't breathe for a moment, realizing how difficult it would be to renounce all this, now that he had given into temptation, knowing what sin tasted like on his lips.

And when he realized how much he missed Ander, how badly he had fallen for him after such a short time, he rubbed his lips angrily, as if he wanted to erase the memory of Ander's mouth from his mind and he wondered for a second whether kissing someone else might help him forget, whether replacing Ander's touch with that of a stranger, someone who meant nothing to him, would help him to cope and suddenly he thought about reading the message after all.

But a glance at the clock made him wince, it was already late and his father would surely be back soon. He had still to make room in the storage for his father's purchases and refill the shelves. He started with the grain products and worked his way through the store, shelf by shelf, until he finally got to the fruits and vegetables.

He head was still throbbing and he was completely exhausted, the sleepless nights and the many worries on his mind had been hard on him. He had just fetched a heavy box of oranges from the storage when a wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him to close his eyes, briefly losing his balance.

He managed to catch himself quickly, but most of the oranges had fallen out of the box and were rolling across the floor. Omar sighed, but when he saw his father approaching the door to the store, his blood froze in his veins, he gave a startled gasp and threw himself on his knees, trying to collect the orange as quickly as possible.

Before he knew it, the door was flying open and the angry voice of his father reached his ears. He felt his father's broad hand closing tightly around the back of his neck, roughly pulling him to his feet.

“You are completely useless, Omar! Lazy, worthless and stupid! Look at the mess you made! Why did Allah burden me with you?”

Omar pressed his lips together, tried not to let the anger of his father get to him, feeling ashamed, even more so when he felt tears burning in his eyes. It was getting too much for him, he just couldn't take it anymore. But he knew what was expected of him and so he looked to the ground and forced himself to speak.

“I am sorry that I failed your expectations, father!”, Omar said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Pull yourself together and start behaving like an adult, Omar! I am sick of you acting like a child. Staying in bed all Sunday, refusing to eat and to pray with your family! I taught you better than that! I left you alone yesterday, did all the hard work myself and how do you thank me for that?”

Omar swallowed hard and forced himself to remain calm.

“As I said, I am really sorry! Hearing about Jahmil …!”

Omar didn't get to finish his sentence. His father raised his finger angrily, his eyes narrowed and his lips were quivering.

“Stop it, Omar! I don't want to hear you say his name in this house anymore, do you understand ?”

Omar stared at his father, his eyes opened wide. Anger was burning hotly in his veins and his legs were shaking, unable to understand how cruel his father was. And although he knew that talking back would only make things worse, he couldn't help it, he couldn't swallow them down, couldn't stay silent. If no one else had spoken for Jahmil, then at least he had to do it, owed it to his friend, no matter the consequences and so it happened that the words broke out of him.

“He was my friend, father! And I will honour him and his name, no matter what! You won't make me forget him and whatever you think of him and the way he was, whatever religion tells you, it's wrong! Nobody … nobody deserves to die because they are different. These beliefs are wrong, they are poisoning us and I won't be a part of it, do you understand?”

The blow hit him right in the face, hard and fast, and although his father had hit him before, it took him by surprise and he stumbled back a step while he felt warm tears running down his face. He gasped, feelings the angry gaze of his father on his skin. He carefully brought his hand to his lip, which was throbbing painfully and he felt that it was split open, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue.

And his father wasn't done with him yet, pushed him backwards against a shelf until he could no longer move and Omar's body was frozen in fear, while his father stared at him furiously, his lips twisted in distaste.

“This is the first and the last time that you will speak to me like that, Omar! You will no longer disrespect your father and our beliefs. And if I ever heard such sinful words coming out of your mouth again, I will make sure that you are going to regret them!”

Omar's lips trembled, his heart was beating too fast in his chest and he felt dizzy, afraid of his father and what he had done by saying those words out aloud. Only a few centimetres separated him from his father, his eyes bored into his and he felt his breath on his face. And while he wanted to turn away, to hide from his sight and to break down, he was afraid of making things worse and forced himself to stand still.

“Your thoughts are polluted, Omar! You do not know what you are saying and you are no longer able to see the sin in the world around you. This has to stop! I should have listed to the elders of our community and initiated you earlier, like the other fathers did with their sons and look where it brought us.”

His father's words scared him and he wishes he would have kept his stupid mouth shut, no matter how hard it would have been, hated that he had manoeuvred himself into this situation. He was shaking and he had his hands clenched into fists, trying to keep himself under control, while his lip continued to throb painfully, making him feel ashamed and humiliated.

“But I am a good father and I will take care of you! From now on, you will accompany me to the mosque for _Ṣalāt al-Jumuʿah._ Our Friday prayer is going to teach you what it means to be a good Muslim and such misguided words will never come over your lips again. Do you understand me, Omar?”

Omar knew that resistance was futile, that it would only make things worse and so he swallowed hard and forced himself to nod, his gaze on the floor, unable to look into his father eyes.

“Say it!”, his father said harshly.

“I understand, father!”

Omar felt the blush on his face, ashamed of his own weakness, that he kept obeying his father's words, even though he knew how wrong they were, but he didn't have any power left to fight, he just wanted the confrontation to be over.

“Good! And now go and wash your face and after that you will come back and clean up this mess!”

Omar nodded and when his father finally moved away from him, he turned around and left as quickly as he could, warm tears running down his cheeks and while his chest was about to burst open with all his suffering, his pain and his anger, he swallowed all the feelings down and forced himself to lock them up inside of him.

(¯`’•.¸(¯`’•.¸*¸.•’´¯)¸.• ‘´¯)

Although school had ended a while ago, Ander was sitting on the steps in front of the sports building, lost in thoughts. His mother was still working and while he couldn't stand being near her at the moment, the thought of going home and potentially being confronted with Antonio alone wasn't an option for him.

He was afraid that things could end badly, wanting to scream how terrible he felt into Antonio's face, making him understand how much he had suffered over the years, how broken he was. He knew that he couldn't put it off forever, neither a conversation with his mother nor a confrontation with Antonio, but he wasn't ready yet, his wounds still too fresh, too raw.

With the coloured tin can on his lap, one last piece of _baklava_ left, he was holding a picture in his hands which he had found in an old box of childhood memories in the back of his closet when he hadn't been able to fall asleep at night. It showed him on a warm summer day, he must have been five or maybe six years old, in the arms of a tall man, who was smiling at him mischievously and Ander's hand was fisted into the man's thick curls. Letting his fingers trail over the picture, he recognized himself in the man's features and it made his heart beat faster in his chest.

_This is where you come from!_

_This man is a part of who you are!_

His mother was also on the picture, standing a few feet in front of them, a pinched smile on her face, while she was setting the barbecue table for their guests, certainly aware of Antonio's angry gaze that was directed at his brother.

Ander didn't remember much of the day, only that it had been a big celebration, maybe a birthday of one of their relatives, but he did remember that he had been lying in bed that evening, his parents screaming at each other downstairs. And when he had looked out of the window, unable to sleep with all the noise, he had seen Antonio's brother – his father – standing in the garden, the faint glow of the living room light on his face, a cigarette between his lips.

_Why did you leave me behind?_

_Why didn't you take care of me?_

_Why haven't you been there?_

Ander was completely lost in thought, didn't hear the steps that were approaching him and when someone said his name, he flinched and quickly hid the picture from sight, letting it disappear in his pocket. He looked up in confusion, his eyebrows pulled together, when he saw who was standing in front of him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”, Samuel asked, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

At first, Ander didn't know what to say, he had hardly talked to Samuel before and couldn't imagine what he wanted from him, but when he saw him shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other, he shrugged before sliding to the side, making room for Samuel on the stairs.

“I'm not in the best of moods, had quite a fucked up weekend to be honest, but what do you want?”, Ander asked, watching Samuel out of the corner of his eye.

Samuel sat next to him, his knees pulled close to his body, while he ran a hand through his thick hair, looking into the distance. It took him a second, before he spoke, his voice soft.

“I wanted to talk about Omar … and you, I guess!”

When Samuel felt Ander flinch and stare at him, his gaze hot on his skin, he turned around and smiled at the surprised expression on Ander's face.

“Did he tell you about … us?”, Ander asked, clearly surprised.

Samuel shook his head and leaned back a little, his weight on his hands.

“No, I figured it out by myself! He recently told me that he is gay and that he is seeing someone … someone who's making him happy!”

Ander didn't know what to say, obviously confused, both about the fact that Samuel apparently knew about them without Omar having said something and hearing that Omar had felt happy with him made his heart beat faster in his chest, but it also hurt, knowing that Omar had been pushing him away once again. Ander cleared his throat, rubbing his hands against his worn jeans.

“So … how comes that you know that I am … was that person?”, he asked.

“I put the pieces together, I guess! The day you were at his parents' store … I met him that evening and he was acting weird, very curious. He asked a hell of a lot of questions about you … including whether you have a girlfriend.”

They both had to laugh and despite all his worries, it felt good and Ander enjoyed hearing his own laughter, the slight vibration in his chest, showing him that he was still alive, that parts of him were still whole. And he looked at Samuel, his head tilted slightly, while he continued listening to him.

“After that I've seen you two or three times in our neighbourhood, wondering what you were doing there. And I know that you were listening to what Nadia and I were talking about this morning. I saw you walking towards the bathroom and you were the only one that got to the classroom after us … you looked quite confused!”

Ander swallowed, feeling caught, knowing that it wasn't okay to overhear someone else's conversation, but when he looked at Samuel, his cheeks slightly flushed, wanting to apologize, Samuel just shook his head, an understanding smile on his lips.

“Anyway … I wasn't one hundred percent sure, afraid that I was seeing things, but well … I guess this gave you away!”, Samuel said, nodding in the direction of the tin can in Ander's lap.

Ander laughed and looked at the last piece of _baklava_ , remembering the beautiful hours he had spend with Omar, his eyes shining and an honest smile on his lips. It seemed ages ago, at a time, where the world had still been okay, where Ander had not yet faced the ugly truth that his whole life was nothing but a lie.

He sighed and held the can into Samuel's direction, offering him the last piece of his present, knowing that he wouldn't be able to eat it, that something was stopping him from doing so, potentially afraid that it would end things for good, cut the last connection and he felt ridiculously relieved when Samuel shook his head.

“No, thanks!”

Samuel bis his lower lip, a frown on his face, wondering what exactly he should say to Ander, how he could make things better without abusing Omar's trust. After they both set in silence for a while, Samuel looked at Ander, seeking his gaze.

“Listen, Ander! Omar is in a pretty dark place right now, he's not doing well and I am very worried about him. You know that I saw him yesterday and he told me that he ended things, that he felt it was too dangerous. What happened to his friend is not my story to tell, but I can't stand to see him like this.”

Samuel paused for a moment, his eyes still on Ander, watching his reaction intently.

“I haven't seen him as happy as those past few days and … I know that it is difficult with him! Even being friend with him is complicated, especially at the beginning, we had lots of ups and downs. It's hard for him to open up to someone, to trust. But he has a good heart and … what he did … he did it to protect you and the ones he loves, do you understand?”

Ander was nodding at Samuel to continue, hearing his every word, feeling his palms getting sweaty.

“He's been scared all his life … the things happening at home … they are really though sometimes and he reacts on instinct, you know? He hides, he withdraws, he pulls back, that's what's brought him through life so far! But he deserves some happiness and I think you can help him … just don't give up on him so easily, okay? Just give him some time!”

And Ander felt how Samuel's words got to him, how they gave him hope and courage, making him believe that he could change things if he wanted to. And he knew that he would have seen this straight away, if he wouldn't have been in such a dark place himself, he had actually always been a fighter, unwilling to give up easily.

And he was grateful to Samuel for having spoken to him, making him understand that it was worth fighting, remembering that Polo had said something similar this morning, the feelings he had for Omar deeper and more intense than anything he had felt before, too precious to lose.

“Thank you, Samuel!”, he said, his voice hoarse and he quickly looked away, afraid to make a fool out of himself.

Samuel nodded, while getting up and as Ander watched him disappear in the distance, he remember the promise he had whispered into the night not that long ago, as it had been Omar's back that he had been watching until the darkness had swallowed him.

_I'll be there, if you need me!_

_No matter how difficult it is going to be!_

And Ander knew that it was time to keep this promise, that he wouldn't let Omar push him away, out of his life! He wouldn't let him down, wouldn't let him get lost in the darkness. He would fight for what they could have and while he felt alive for the first time since days, he had no idea how difficult his fight would be, how long and hard, how much it would drain him. All he knew was that he he wouldn't give up, no matter what!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Take care and until next time ❣️


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